No one lives here.
You don’t live here, I don’t live here,
no one does. The house is empty.
There are no people inside,
including you and me.
I’m not in, you’re not in.
No one is in.
Down the street there are voices.
The voices come from people
who are talking. They are talking
about the empty house and about the fact
that no one is inside it. That I’m not in it
and that you’re not either. If the people keep talking
someone will tell them to stop talking
and accept the fact that the house
is empty and to go on about their lives,
empty as they must be.
Why would someone
talk about an empty house anyway.
People do things like that and get away with it.
People talk about stuff all the time,
including the emptiness of houses
and how empty houses are buildings
with no one in them.
One day the house will be destroyed
and no one will care.
it takes a lot to remember your name,
it takes a lot to remember how the winter snows
fell that morning, the snowdrifts piling high near the doors,
and we were stuck inside but
it didn’t feel like being stuck,
the windows were there, we could look out,
there were snowdrifts that piled high up to the windows,
why did they pile so high,
why did the snowdrifts pile so high, but
we were inside and we could not get out,
we were cheerfully trapped
the snowdrifts trapped us in our own domain
and it was then we were happy,
we were happy then, time was ours
and we were happy with time
and it wasn’t mad at us,
time wasn’t mad with anyone