Outside the house, a loved house
Of beauty and stability and grandeur
Home still to my beautiful, fractured childhood
This is my place, after time, don’t be fooled

By a neighbour who busies himself
Among a myriad of marigolds
Decaying as they are, detritus
Marring a garden which really
Couldn’t be more open to interpretation.

What’s depressing is his bald patch
Depressingly human and desolately inevitable
He looks up oh
No oh, please
I end up crying, because
He is too blind to see me
Concealed, hidden, secret
Among the laurel bushes. Desiccated. Iridescent.

What? That’s obvious illusion. Again. Don’t
Be fooled. I know and you know I know you know
We know
I have no compassion.

This is a clattering of pots and pans.
Thought confounds me. I look down, there
Is a sharp stone, heavy.
Does he know?
The sun glitters, green and scintillating
Among the copious lime canopies
And finally, my eyes are full of sin.