A Stranger in My Home

by Robert (Bobby) Thomas Thompson

Yesterday found me, spectre, in my house,

And with came my daughter, my wife,

My dog, a roach, some noise, a mouse,

And some other revenant roustabout;

Yet, I thought, "Self, there was one,"

I thought, "Self, there was one, whom

     yet met me" and there was clout

In such empowerment, and by-cloit there

Was emptiness where neither been able I to see;

Had I known that one as well as I knew where

I had hardly taken necessity to look, and: man!

There was where, that that echoic self mistook

Me. my loving home was the stranger, still, wham!

Today too, I find a stranger is in my house, --

And since yesterday a countless ghost dragoons

Itself through; yet -- as in yet, this is not a home

     insomuch as doubt and memory joust.


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