have you ever plundered the things of some other
china crackling under foot, broken carelessly
in rage or in spite?
dust falling silently from above
or rising under your careful gait?
clothing scattered as if left
sweaters, hand-knit and the rest
tossed, discarded, forgotten or
by another pillaged but worn no more?
could you resist this calling to go
where the voyeur or the cat burglar could before?
through dusty parlor, up, up, up creeping steps
up to the second floor?
passing remains and reminders of past lives
--a plow no longer pulled, wine jars dry
a ray of light shining through the ceiling
for the last time
the smell of wine and rotting tangerines
all there for our selection
this is a planter, that a simple conversation piece
this a funny artifact and those wine bowls full of charm
--the next round will meet our own lips
isn't that the scene from outside our own window?
curious isn't it?
when kicking and grimacing
he sends our vessels rolling and crashing
asking "by who's authority?"and like a poltergeist having shaken our world
is gone again.