My House
Micah Bauman
my house
is slowly leaving me
piece by piece
it departs
soon
I’ll have nowhere
to live
to sleep
my house is slowly leaving me
the wall left
It desired some time alone
the ceiling left
It reached an all-time low
the floor left
It couldn’t handle the pressure anymore
the door left
In search of greater opportunities
the roof left
It was feeling under the weather
the window left
It yearned to see the world
the stairs
they come and go
can never make up their mind
my house is slowly leaving me
soon I will leave too
not yet though
i’ll stay here for now
just me and the closet
hanging around
Micah Bauman enjoys chasing hawks and abandoned houses with his camera. His fascination with language and wordplay draws him toward writing poetry. He has read his poems at local art galleries and poetry gatherings like Poetry Under the Paintings in Lewisburg and the Art Station in Lock Haven. His poems and reflections on language and the weird humans who use it can be found on his blog, monkeyprodigy.wordpress.com.
Word Fountain 
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