Sunday, May 18, 2025

The Architect

Doors in the ceilings, windows in the floors,
Stairs going nowhere, decoy bathrooms for
Confusing vengeful spirits not confused
Already by the racket, seventeen
Chimneys for forty-seven fireplaces,
Bats in the belfry, crowds of dead men howling
Out in the endless, God-blessed, skull-bedecked,
Blood-soaked dark American wilderness,
Out past ten thousand panes of pretty stained
Glass she tried in vain to hide behind,
A room festooned with gleaming rifles, one 
Automatic electric elevator, 
Gold chandeliers, and hand-made spider webs.

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