Marriage
The house becomes a non-house. The house becomes nonsense. The driveway, an open door. The street, agape. The stoop, a hole. You could say, rabbit-hole, but I prefer manhole.
Follow @lady_bronte
© Umansky 2011
July 28, 2011 by Leah Umansky
Marriage
The house becomes a non-house. The house becomes nonsense. The driveway, an open door. The street, agape. The stoop, a hole. You could say, rabbit-hole, but I prefer manhole.
Follow @lady_bronte
© Umansky 2011
Posted in poems | Leave a Comment
Leave a Reply