The Walking House

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My attempt to create an actual poem using many of the ideas suggested today by fb friends. Thanks everyone. 🙂 The link to my photographic inspiration is included.

Laurie Simmons’ The Walking House — http://www.moma.org/collection/browse_results.php?criteria=O%3AAD%3AE%3A7015|A%3AAR%3AE%3A1&page_number=17&template_id=1&sort_order=1&background=gray

Wandering through the photography exhibit at the BMA today
I felt the absent hands of my children

No need to catch my daughter’s fingertips
as transfixed she’d reach
to trace
the water tower and rippled torso,
the needle slipping into the naked junkie’s arm

It was me transfixed
gazing at the doll house on woman’s legs
all domesticity
at the core
A perfect home on shapely legs
supported on the seduction of high heels

My house splits wide
with lost soccer gear
unspayed dust bunnies
Bitter Apple coated clothes
and needles slipped into diseased arms
My shapely legs
solidly encased in sparkly Chuck Taylor tennis shoes

If I could pry back the curtains
peer into the doll house
would I find muddy shoes
a coat of grime
and syringes

Would I find
under the mess
and behind the laughter
a face looking back
with understanding
and longing

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About Julie Ayers

Seasoned apocaloptimist, keen admirer of well-placed words, fierce mama bear of extra special children, black belt hugger, and advocate for a fashion rebellion which elevates the most human of hearts to socially acceptable outerwear.

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