A vacant room with a thirteenth floor view,
Christ clean carpets untouched by any shoes,
Waiting to be filled with mahogany pews and pictures containing relics of yesterday’s news.
Premium priced sofas to seat the phantoms of the previous heirs.
Tables, chests, ashtrays, chairs.
Whatever is best to **** in the second-hand air;
Whatever will hide this hollow hive from looking bare.
You can cover the cracks on walls with paper rolls,
But you can’t clothe the void within your soul.
You can inhabit these homes of which you’ve stole,
But a mole can’t live in a rabbit hole.