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The Pledge
Poetry by Joshua D Edwin
The air in this house jingles
with a rare and spontaneous light
a Jurassic luminescence—
big and noisy and strange.
Rightfully, this is an estate,
with grand decay everywhere implicit—
in the aristocratic conifers encroaching,
shadowing the grassy rear meadow,
in the lugubrious droning of insects
looming tall over the concrete veranda.
The elderly architecture is collapsing,
threatening the uncovered heads within.
But the inside explodes out—
out of open doors and windows fly
hysterical catastrophic words, defenestrated,
exaggerated with laughter, the estate’s
weary frame buttressed by living conversation,
words breaking their own inertia,
feeding their energy to walls and ceilings.
Goddammit!, this shitsack house won’t fall down while we’re here!
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