This House

By Cliff Lake

 

This House

 

Cartoon colossus,

Your puffery deflates

When even the smallest hero staunchly stands.

The shifting sands of your straying conviction betray you.

Your doubletalk,

Your double back,

Your instant balk,

You’re talking smack,

You walk it back.

Big ego,

Big mouth,

Small where it counts.

 

Myopic titan,

Head so high above your boots crushing,

You do not see your stumbling steps.

Circle back and twist again.

Whose toes have you trod today?

Do they hold you in such awe,

That they will forgive?

That they will forget?

Discount them singly,

Their complete number swells.

Ants eventually cart away entire carcasses…

 

Bumbling behemoth,

Bruised in body,

Drooping display,

Reckless reactions,

The costs are no longer marketable,

The harvest goes hollow,

The taken have no more to give.

Hungry mouths will fill with blame,

And you have put yourself in their eye

At every opportunity.

They will only see you,

As you have allowed no other in their sight.

Like the parade balloon,

You fly high,

And yet:

You are still bound by the many.

Large and colorful,

And yet:

Only a skin full of gas.

 

Haphazard hulk,

Your command lacks control,

Your order is disordered,

You find yourself brought to heel,

By those you would trample.

So close surrounded by those who fear you,

You do not reckon those beyond the sphere,

Nor compute their number,

Never expecting so many to resoundingly say “NO!”

The challenges ahead you do not see yet,

Challenges you concoct in sleepless bed,

Slipping through fingers grown weaker daily.

 

Bungling bulk,

The empire has got beyond you,

Your dominion is dampened,

Your sway sags,

The laughter haunting your disquiet is real,

Coming from every direction,

Even within your abode.

You attempt to quell and control,

But this house was built on rebellion…

And this house remembers.

 

Cliff Lake 9/13/2025

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2025

Location: Washington, DC, USA

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