Wednesday, July 17, 2013

You Live in a Very Small House


You live in a very small house
On a street
That’s getting busier

You moved in when the baby was coming
And you’ve been here ever since
And now the baby’s got a baby coming

You need a new roof
And new paint on the walls
And a carpet for the living room

You decided not to put the pool in this year
Because it’s supposed to rain all summer anyway
And that other stuff is more important

Parades go by in front of your house
And at night, you can sit on the porch
And wonder about the neighbors

When it’s winter, the snow comes right up
To the front door
Like a stray looking for food

When it’s spring, you get flowers you never planted
And the ones you did plant
Never come up

You face disappointment, great and small
Years later, you remember trivial instances
With a golden frame

You get insomnia some nights
And look out the window at the broken pavement
Thinking maybe you should have tried living in the city

What if you feel like pizza at 3am?
What if you need a little noise to sleep?
What if you made a mistake?

You think about people in bigger houses
And wonder if that would make you any happier
I mean, you’re pretty happy right now, aren’t you?

You’re not sick
Nobody you know is sick
The house is yours—paid in full

The car works
The kids aren’t on drugs
The guy’s coming to see about the roof on Thursday

Meanwhile on the street
Patches of nothing
Become overnight retail

They’re putting in a Domino’s a block from you
And another CVS, and the third Walgreen’s in two miles
Plus a yogurt shop and a consignment store

You didn’t go to the city
So the city’s coming to you
Maybe it’s time for a move

But you like the sounds of the high school nearby
Every fall, you curse the increased traffic
Secretly, you like seeing the parents dropping off their kids

You like walking the dog
Down the same blocks
To the same fire hydrants

You like knowing what you’ll see when you wake up
And when you go to bed
And what’s waiting for you after work

You like the way time rolls here
Over and over
Hitting the same bumps, gliding down the same dips

You live in a very small house
On a street
That’s getting busier

And at night, when you can’t sleep
You get to thinking
About all the other houses

And all the other people you know
And don’t know
And never will know

And you think about all the living you’ve done
In this very small house
And you’re sort of amazed at it

That such a small place
Could contain
So much life

A car goes by
And then another
And then nothing

And then nothing but quiet
For a very long
Time

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