Let Me In


Serrated plates,

rows of overlapping scales

went out with the disappearance of the dinosaurs,

died on a Medieval joust;

discard the armour.

Little one,

precious child,

let Me in.

Tearing You Down

Detroit crumbles

Image courtesy of politicalvindication.com

It’s time to tear you down.

You’ve executed well, and served Purpose faithfully.

Erected under inky skies, with window-curtained cheeks stained pink,

you covered rawness and hid inadequacy

within wooden walls.

Your shingles protected from prying eyes and prodding glances,

a roof of glass sharper than blade.

It’s time to tear you down…

You fought the Big Bad Wolf and the huffing and puffing

and chimney climbing and door knocking

screamed for strong structure.

But now,

you keep the Princess behind bars

and the Prince from the tower

and the Good Genie from granting your wishes.

And your blemishes multiply

in dawning daylight.

So –

I’m tearing you down,

plank by plank,

nail by nail,

gutter by shutter,

until all that’s left