AND HERE THEY DREAM (ii) Then the hallways multiplied. Your aunt was there, wandering, a book held in her hands. She’d sewn patterns into the pages, but many were still blank. She approached you, urgently: “I need help with this one,” she said, pointing to the book—at which point you left the dream. […]
Scott Cecchin | from HOUSE
The house flowers
in light. Be-
low that,
dirt. Deeper,
a glacier. And deepest:
fire.
A. F. Moritz | HOUSE
HOUSE It was a house plummeting through the night. At last I had a home. A place to stay, my own, a different place from the hideous roofless pesterings, the appearances and disappearings that never let me alone. It was a house collapsing into itself. When I’d swept all the floors, caulked the cracks, dusted […]