Wednesday, September 10, 2014

The Potato House


There is a house where only potatoes grow
On the walls and roof
The spuds thrive

A schoolhouse needs a teacher
A patio house needs a pool
a prefabricated house needs premeditation
And the potato house potatoes

If you sit in this patchless, sober space
And meditate myriads of 
Potato possibilities

Their forms so irregular yet in need 
Of being held in a hand
With dirty fingernails



Over time
The potato energy will collect
And as the lights of the sky dim
Bulbs will flash with the low intensity of fireflies
Crossing the horizon 
With the lightness of a dance company

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