Destiny sans mine family of origin domicile
locked in a full nelson,
and...eventually wrestled
to the ground as pile of jagged rubble!
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Synonymous with fragile hulk
(pitted against backhoe and wrecking ball)
incredibly resilient,
when incessantly whip lashed
until unanchored off mooring
thence, her frail exterior (rabidly
chomped via humungous steely toothed jaws)
bowed, teetered and collapsed
stern weight accosted, beckoned, and caved,
spot on dead reckoning,
non bash full machination yen
suffering being most weather beaten
since about nineteen ten
embodying painstaking craftsmanship
from way back when,
effort to build an enduring domicile
ruled as blueprint for a den
not necessarily of thieves,
but extra ordinary ship shape,
rich n hard folks (The Leipers)
fancying innovative
Hercules hue men, and women
who wrought their family genealogy
via quilted pen
predecessors of Barbie and their ken
Erected by strong strapping young men.
Since February 28th 1968
mighty noble domain occupied
by thine now octogenarian widower father
echoing with ghosts,
who formerly inhabited 324 Level Road
(plus spirit of deceased mother),
a plethora of past occupants came to life
when’re he visited berth of his lady friend
who lives in the langhorne area
haggled with Gambone builders
to pocket a *** of cash
resigned immeasurable
blood, sweat and tears all for naught,
nor without Miley Cyrus astride
the demolition destroyer
which hundred year old mansion
once a stately summer resort
(to the upscale who owned
the Bell & Clapper),
a respectable haven for well to do Philadelphians
whar English ivy obscured visible slated patio
upon said pseudo pier viewer proffered view
where lily padded fishpond aqua culture bounded
(where froggy went a court'n
hopping tubby a prince) below decks
which once renown estate
accrued facade as mere dark shadow
sitting like a charade along,
the outer limits of the twilight zone
casting shadowy silhouettes,
sans lovely bones the edge of night
versus former vestige of former radiant glory
prompted this prodigal son to be somber and brood
perchance never to set my eyes, whereat
no artisan gentrified abode of vested gentry
thus, debilitating, hunkering,
and landing plain trampled
so much uniqueness expended viz zit by the hands
of thine extraordinarily dexterous
hands of me papa,
who spent immeasurable energy
and countless precious blocks of time
to gentrify, mend and rescue
from natural degradation
(whence thee bell tolled the hour
maws gouged gored a gaping hole
from this fixer upper,
the entire complex edifice
Like fate of humpty Dumpty
did crumble and fall
vis a vis, our own Roman version
Thence, my father removed a sign
passersby (whether on foot or via auto de fe),
would never know, nor glance to read
historical indication, viz the original occupants
i.e. captain Leiper, and listed in registry
steered his shipshape tract titled "Glen Elm",
a vast vibrant 100 + green acres
before dilapidated home
listlessly lumbered ponderously
with nary hub buyer shaking hands at acceptable price
thus, the sad outcome as indicated above
mine dada did agreed
on a deal with contractor
who bought scrappy spit of land
Acres bandied crumbs
dealt enough finances "bread"
hence (as explained)
by the end of November 2012
demolition crews
bull dozed childhood crucible
of memories without fail.
