#1540 carpenters

we pay carpenters to build these walls to hold our junk
stuff attached to cords that fits in the walls we bought
memories we change by trying to contain
in an 8 by 10 glass and cardboard box we hang on the walls we bought
seats and chairs we think we earned
security is not a word spoken or known by the lion or the rabbit
we push the furnitures so their backs are up against the walls
looking out, not unlike the bear's cave
public spaces are just inside the door we open to strangers
the private we hide at the back
bedrooms and ugly bathrooms

the guns in these vains are discharging
no one hears them but the ears in my aorta
i'm alone in this world of loners
a stone in this field of stoners
the lost and found bucket is full of forgotten possessions
where can i find my passions and obsessions
i speed to speed and work to work
we need a wrecking ball to crush these walls into beautiful rubble
memories of our imaginary secure bubble

joseph was a carpenter
built things from trees with his two hands
with callouses for a source of power

when we fill our walls with stuff made in foreign countries
we move into bigger walls
i say burn the moving boxes filled with toxic
stop
listen to our hearts speak truth at 58 beats a minute
57
56
55
hug a sinner and high five a saint
home is the volume knob turned low enough to listen to our hearts beat
all the human hearts on this here Earth beat-beating all at once
a roar louder than the gunfire in some country we can't spell