The origins of the aforementioned roof
Told in a single story
From a single story.
This roof, whose once tired and weary shingles are now being peeled away like
And then tossed down to the grass below,
Missing the open dumpster that exists only for the purpose of refuse,
By miles and miles…
To mingle with nails and other debris that have also fallen,
Like foreign entities onto native lands,
Then posturing as some sort of important landmark.
Embellishing a sort of summer salad in this scenario,
Made up of ants that look like raisins,
And earthworms that look like onions,
Onions that look like onions.
Some of the other roofs watching,
Whose tops are the same color of faraway deserts and deep blue oceans,
And even the noble homes,
The learned homes;
Whose tops include chimneys,
(& tentacles certain times of the year)
Know all too well what smoke smells like,
Marvel at the bottles of half empty sports drinks that balance on the very
This roof in flux.
-Knowing damn well they will never know what it is like to be recycled
Looking like perched birds on a line,
Parrots of so many colors,
That have no place here among this cacophony of
Fire & brimstone.
Missing their rain-forests,
Missing their canopies.
Still they stand firm amidst
Heavy footsteps and
The pounding of the nail-gun,
Identifying more and more with claps of distant thunder,
Instead of the buzzing of grasshoppers.
In more prehistoric times then these,
The reoccurring smell
Overall theme of the thick black tar,
Coupled with the screams of velociraptors
Sheer magnitude of meteorites,
Usually would be indicative of a certain demise
In the best case scenario would lead to
Intact fossilization for future
(The Hall of Fame, in a way)
But these surrounding homes bear the acrid smell
Of the burning bones of dinosaurs
The screams of birds, evolved.
They embrace all the chaos.
They embrace all the construction.
The massive craters left by devoid asteroids were long ago filled with water,
so many lakes came to be;
Named mostly after ordinary names,
Water-skiers out in the deep being pulled by speeding boats
(Built and bound by fiberglass)
And even the children wading in the shallows,
(Also built and bound by fiberglass)
Who will one day walk tightropes…
Who will one day walk tightropes…
Can observe and watch this home gradually gain a new perspective.
Stand and clap on the shorelines the home gains a new and exciting hat.
Formerly a smile missing teeth…on picture day.
Is now a roof to be reckoned with…on picture day.
A roof with an audience and a purpose.
Sticks and stones whipped up by the wildest tornadoes
Bounces right off,
Like artillery shells rolling off of armor;
Rain drops fall and immediately roll off into the new
Stainless steel gutters,
Stainless steel spaceships,
Flowing faster in this vacuum then they ever did in the sky,
& being so grateful for it,
Only to be expelled from the conduit
In a fashion similar to that of a waterfall roaring off a cliff,
But there is no lagoon for the water to land here;
Instead it ends up spilling out
Next to the musty garage,
That houses a generator that has been colonized by spiders
Old newspapers, that have colonized countless oil spills.
Reaching its final destination ,
Then it will pool, and sink into the earth.
Near an old bicycle that never made its way to the curb.
Near the old triceratops that never made its way to the curb, either.
Neither of which ever got the lead in the school play;
Neither of which ever had the chance to walk the tightrope…