Roof (an acrostic poem)

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Raise the top part of the dwelling

Or the outer ceiling, the outer ceiling, the outer ceiling is on fire

Or that thing about a more folksy violinist on the shingles

For one last one, You’re what?      Tin Parapet!         Rusted!

Hovel (an acrostic poem)

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Home is home, but sometimes you just live in a place

Outside is allowed to get ragged, inside things are just left where they are

Vistas of unkept memories and mementos cast aside without a care

Eclipsing all hopes of doing something about it, to make it a livable space

Leaving you to wonder if it is just a condemned dwelling, or a wasted life