Houses

All the while we want houses

That protect us from fierce tigers

From demons and midnight spirits

Drunk on smelly country liquor

Fed through special stone holes.

We make our gods feel spirited

And bribed enough to give houses

To us and they do not knock

At our midnight doors and scare

Our hair erect on our bodies.

Houses cost filthy money which

Our spirit friends alone can get us

In their unguarded moments

When we flatter and coax them

In chaste Sanskrit incantations

Via fat priests wearing ocher robes.

We love three bed room houses

With gleaming Chinese crockery

And objects d’art in drawing rooms

Of cement and concrete perfection.

Our hearts truly jump up and down

In the midst of much brick and mortar

When they enclose our inner follies

And our absurdly comic enactments .