We have moved out of the house where we lived for twenty years; During those years of stay, Spiderman has not yet revealed himself to Mary Jane. It was also those times when push-button phones have not yet replaced the rotary ones that some people use to connect anonymously in crosslines. The old house continues to haunt my dreams. I realize that when things from today and yesterday get mixed up in these recurring dreams which end up with me looking at a page of a calendar hung on the wall after I ask what year it is.
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Back to the house
With that rotary phone
Back to that old…
But where’s the dog?
Back to the house
where Parker’s without
a Misses?
Back to the stairs
Why wobbly, not tiled?
Back to the house
With streets, not the wild
Back to the house
With the calendar’s face: 1991;
Now so I know
I am dreaming again
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