Inside the house there are ghosts gnashing their teeth,
whispering into the baby monitor.
At the other end of the house I freeze
hear the voices amid crackles of static,
stop folding towels.
She is the final holdout,
but the bread has crossed over to our side.
Fat shadows hulk across the afternoon.
Frilly lines flounce in the sun.
My sweat is sick,
and change eludes me
Who are these shadow people
dragging across the hours?
Ghoulish women crowd dark corners.
Light glistens on my breath.
There is an evil menagerie beyond the gate.
I am dancing motionless.
There are many cathedrals waiting
to be unearthed in my garden.
I want to remember exhaustion
I hate Complacency
and the way he makes everything pale
I’m packed and ready
to follow the ghosts and learn
what they know,
but I dread the low opacity