by DavidKM

A House is not a Home


The ottoman scoots closer

Reports of the latest crises

Striate the living walls

Dissolve to a salad of

Brownian spots

A signal the house needs food

I don't move

The ottoman quivers, shakes

Again, barks a warning.


Fire blossoms everywhere

Rampaging robots march with snapping claws

And crimson beams of fire

This is not real, but it's certainly distracting

It'll keep up till I do my duty.


I lever myself up

Stumble to the pantry

"I'm coming, I'm coming" I call

Uh oh

The food bag is empty

What else do I have?

The fridge flashes a low-food warning

I feel like Old Mother Hubbard

Except my dog IS my cupboard

Grab my keys and go to the door

But it stays shut.

"The grocery store! You want Purina All-House™?"

Nothing moves.

"And Home Treats™! Condo flavor!"

The door slides open.

When I get back I'll find out

What has been destroyed

And what has not.



End of poem



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