Just more poems

Gertrude Stein's Circular Universe

Revolving, evolving, revolving
circles,
the circles go round and round
and so do we.

Now here we are in Ireland,
perhaps we are in France -
it makes no difference to me -
and the three cats agree.

xxxxxxx

THIS HAUNTED HOUSE

All my life I've lived in
this haunted house

Where the heater in the basement
bangs like a death drum

It's too cold at night
and the windows don't open in the summer

Sometimes when the heat starts up
it crackles like
a forest fire

Strange people sit in corners, reading

The heater in the basement
sounds like a death drum

xxxxxx