Pueblo house

Pueblo house
Here
Pueblo house
Cherished
By small birds
Who visit the laurel hedge
Or the tall birch trees
That they
Love excitedly
With eyes and wings
And bird songs
Pueblo house
I would rename you
Pueblo house
If I could
To humanise you
To take you off the grid
Of municipal rules and squares
That have counted
The doors and the windows
That charge for bedrooms
Does it matter
How many bedrooms
In the flat?
People here
Do not want to live by numbers
Do not want to live
In categories
In ordinances and censuses
They come and go
Stay still or change
I have been made to believe
In corners of stone
And brick walls
In tiled rooves and square pavement stones
Yet I look for neighbours in the windows
I listen for pigeons
But here now
There are people
In pueblo house
Who love and hate
Fight one another
Make peace
Form allegiances
Make lasting relationships
In the courtyard
They work
On their cars
Like secondary beings
Like pets that are
Part of their families
They move shadowy
Through the gates
Into the mainstream of life
They thump the wall
When they are angry
With pueblo house
They stamp on the floor
Above their neighbours
In retributions
They slam doors
When their peace
Has been threatened
They gather in random groups
Like strange adults
Quizzical
With no cohesion
They whistle or sing
Like territorial blackbirds
Or loudly clear their throats
For who knows what reason
But pueblo house
Covers them over
Pueblo house
Tucks them into bed
Sings to them
In the silence
With another kind of silence
Unrealised
Unspoken
Communal
Enclosed
Closed in
Struggling
Against the orders
From the outside
From the government
As the postman
Comes in and out
Not smiling
Not smiling
At the smiles
He does not find
In pueblo house
In a pueblo house
One person’s sadness
Is everyone’s sadness
One person’s happiness
Is everyone’s happiness
Don’t let the world
Carve you up
Like new toffee
On a tray
And let you go cold
I hate the name
Birchfield
It invokes
School beatings
Thorny surreal paintings
Strengthened by building rules
For enclosed spaces
For detainments
For disciplines
I could live in a place
Like pueblo house
In a pool of humanity
In a multilingual
Multicultural
Epiglottal
Of doors on stairs
Of sounds and silences
That you would expect
In a pueblo
In a pueblo house

Woman of the pueblo

Pueblo: humanises a place as a state of being,
as a set of values and allegiances

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances.

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