vix

wrapped in vines and uncapped vent stacks, 

only records kept on paper wasps

whispering histories like secrets:

asbestos, asbestos, asbestos

a spindled century of pretty, skin cracked in plaster, 

still all skeleton keys and elbows, 

still all knob and tube.

a fractioned glimpse through glass fuses, 

high on lead and lithium.

a filthy little money pit 

in bed with the seller and his toenail clippings,

negotiations pooling at the soft spots of 

relationships, gutterless 

from this contractual draining and retaining of walls 

built to encapsulate truth,

adhesive beading at her brow 

awaiting an abatement or special occasion: 

happy hazardous waste day! 

leave your misery   memories   heavy metals 

at the curb.

a dirty shade of haint blue 

tainting surfaces overhead.

if ghosts are only swollen-throated echoes

then she’s got plenty,

but they’re all out of plumb.

support beams driven dendritic with nails

whispering? more like sistering

to cast-iron pipe dreams going up in smoke 

and the chimney’s too busy flashing the sky.