Housing Plans

We build our homes in the same way 

young people go about improvisational theater;

an underbaked joke of drywall jutting 

in the hallway, loose lines of electrical wire 

hanging before the silent audience

of the pieced-together plywood. 

We embroider flowered rounds 

of fabric pulled taught like botoxed skin

with love-letter lines, like 

This house would still be the same without you,

or Your presence here is barely noticed

We waste postage on letters addressed 

to this very house, each other’s names 

scrawled on the yellowed envelope,

tucked into the rusted mailbox leaning

like a cardboard crown on a rained-out playground.

We like the taste of wasted love, 

we like the power of faking it,

this kingdom of breaking things 

beneath our feet. 


”Housing Plans” is a poem that I wrote in 2019. It was published in Bleached Butterfly, which you can read online.