Pipes

A house full of rage and shakes,

muffled voices spill through wafer walls,

dragging, by chain, far heavier words.

-

Weighted words which carry a punch

direct

to the stomach, leaving one winded.

-

We passed down our anger, it spread in here

like a virus. I did my best to avoid it — I washed every dish twice, I

cleaned the floors, I scrubbed them until they threatened to bleed

in solidarity with my hands.

-

Still, I have been caught by this disease. And so

I will spread it, too.

-

You will memorise which floorboards creak or squeak

when used at midnight,

but it will not matter — the smallest sound will echo with a deafening thump

and vibrations in the ear will lead to red faces, loud screams and balled fists.

-

There is no point in arguing,

or in trying to escape this problem.

-

It is simply yours, now, and it quietly has been all along

you have received it via an

intravenous drip for many years now,

it’s been sitting in the air,

and you never even noticed.

-

The pipes are full of pressure

and they’re prepared to burst.

The bricks are damp, the house

will fall down

but it being gone

can’t make things any worse.