from The Paperwork Rebuttal - Daniel Roche (reading in the dark txt) 📗
- Author: Daniel Roche
Book online «from The Paperwork Rebuttal - Daniel Roche (reading in the dark txt) 📗». Author Daniel Roche
Wash off the crayon portraits dressing the walls and hums made of powder
sketched by downy hands (bobbing curls) "la-dada-dada, ice cream soup"
Repossess the scent of lilacs of legs that once dangled
thawing in a market across thresholds, "this will be our home."
8. Equity is a rocky precipice 9. bent on crumbling
10a. With each unpaid balance in principle
(as a solvent to sound rest.)
10b. With each unpaid interest in security
(as sighs soon replace breath)
10c. Other sacrifices incurred to date
(itemized by faith, family, friends)
10d. The house is ours, Home is only a word,
("New friends will be waiting, Babygirl.")
11. Know collective fingertips push profit 12. To your waving neighbors
13. And it's easier to demonize a skyscraper when the windows are tinted.
14. Justification pushes forward in doses (in bits of self-preservation).
Hapless circumstances, yes, But empathy for ink paper
15. It comes in choice of sight, of scene.
(at most aloofness, but not callous.)
16. Donna, I too have a daughter:
17a. My sweetheart, Jen:
Six years old
Mom's dimples
17b. She hums and draws:
stars grinning
constellation dots
18. I've known financial misery
when hands tremble
and self-worth is broke
19. It's possible for me to see you as more than a name on a form
20. But my cornerstone rests in My daughter's hands:
In My Home "Daddy!"
Selfish perhaps, or necessary resolve ("The Star Princess glowed brighter than the sun!")
Part B. Memories of Mortgagee
1. No, you call Home a word, but This is Ours,
2. The floor is settled and Our front door disagrees.
3. There, see that smudge, There, we are more than ink!
4. And Our marvelous hail will never stand aside.
(My daughter's wallpaper will ice over again.)
5. Echoes will splash against Our photographs
(Crystal white rectangles dress the living room walls.)
6. And no, portraits cannot be washed away
(And no pink skip can tear Our foundation.)
7. This roof will enclose us and hide us from,
("Orion's Belt!")
8. But your notice is Here now.
(And my hands tremble now. And American Dream whimpers
and nuzzles up against my thigh.)
This is no longer Ours, is it. This is no longer Home, is it.
No, I see. We are filed.
Imprint
Text: Daniel Roche
Images: Daniel Roche and Eric Piatkowski
Editing: Frank Burton
Publication Date: 07-26-2013
All Rights Reserved
Dedication:
Dedicated to those who have ever found themselves lost in a mundane sea of cubicles.
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