‘Spin Off’ of CarousEl by Jan D. Hodge - House


                                                         is this house so still in my mind

                                        but when I see it clearly it is not?  the bricks don’t

                        move though the paint may peel and the glass might smash it is sure to

                     stay in the exact same spot is it not? last night I dreamt I went to manderley

                      again but the                  house I came across was not              like that at

                      all as it was                    high up on a hill and battered                  by the

                     wind and withered to its frame and stripped to its bones with no one inside

                      but my voice echoed anyway as I tried to understand why this house had

                     been left to decay for         it was once a part of me            and I could see

                    myself reflected in                its yellowness and                    why does it now

                    resemble satis house? i question the thorns and the weeds that spiral like gustav

                      and peer through hostile                                      spikes whose paint is curling 

                        like rumpelstiltskin’s                                          fingernails supported by jutting

                 stones and ancient slabs like                                  elsinore shot in black and white

                 and strict architectural                                             beams that slice through ceilings

                 and doors left open and                                           windows broken and dust an inch

                 thick too dense to clean                                           and I scream into nothingness   

                   because this house                                                         seems so far away