My house was made
of second hand wood and colors
and built like a magazine cover.
A man, ready
to jump into the river
with a rock tied around his neck,
shoelaces tied together, I remember
what I want to say; I am a teenager
on my first date!
Patrolmen sit behind the smiling
Lady that smokes filter brands on the lighted board
down County Trunk G, waiting
for my cue.
Tonight I am someone who has lived
in this stage-prop house and upon hearing
slapping noises like hockey sticks
kissing a puck, I wonder like a child
to department store mannequins, if
houses were built stronger —
would people pretend to be