Damon Hubbs

Walls

The house is playing games with us. 
It hides and we seek, digging into soft secret places
the rituals of concealment
a barrow of yellow clay and oyster shells

it hides and we seek, digging into soft secret places 
behind air vents and electrical outlets 
a barrow of yellow clay and oyster shells
sealing up shoes, a candy G-string, play wand and flesh loop 

behind air vents and electrical outlets 
the house breathes with squeaky squamous lungs 
sealing up shoes, a candy G-string, play wand and flesh loop
old newsprint yellowed as a jar of urine and nail-clippings

the house breathes with squeaky squamous lungs 
and croaks a blackbird out of its fireplace;
newsprint yellowed as a jar of urine and nail-clippings
bottles, more shoes, and a note scribbled on a sales notice: 

this house has sunk six feet since it was built. 

The house is playing games with us.