Midnight Home Maintenance
Click. The light fuses are alright.
Their timer is not. Go downstairs,
not three at a time, stumble anyway,
stomp extra hard at the ground floor
because your eyes say there is no bottom.
Click. There are the stairs.
How did your body forget them all?
And the many legs that stand before you,
predictable as a picture,
just overdeveloped. Now to end this charade--
Click. The stubbing begins.
Your furniture become gangsters,
thumbtacks roll out to catch you
and the slippers have betrayed their king
in a dusty exile. Thrust a hand out,
use your boundaries for balance--
Click. Punch a lamp over.
Accident, but should scare the others
from any more pranks. Pause
between rooms; where's the timer?
It's a panel behind the kitchen...
Click. You are not being watched.
The circle of glasses on the dining table
reflect moonlight as a lens
and focus on you, but not because you are there.
And who knows how many discarded forks.
The switch is definitely in the hall closet.
Click. Open the panel. Click.
Click, click, click. Is this thing on?
Pick up the lamp, dust it off.
Toes reunite with lost guardians.
Listen closely and you could almost hear...
Pat the houseguests on their clearly visible shoulders
as you size up the stairs. There they are,
all fourteen, appreciating the attention,
creaking with delight. Go to bed,
should be as easy as flipping a switch.
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As you can see, I did not tug a single heartstring at the end, but I like the suggestion of a house that subtly haunts its owner each time the lights go out. There's potential there. I thought about making the ending about the 2nd-person narrator joining a family that wasn't woken by the lights at all, or went to bed as soon as the light timer was reset, but that would be Lame. There should be a series of entries about certain words and concepts that can be retired from 21st-century poetry (or at least anything that I read because clearly I am always right).
The title comes last in this case, and I want something that is at best whimsical and suggests something weird/mysterious happening at bedtime, and at worst something vague and mysterious. Nothing threatening or menacing for this title. Did I hit the mark? It's kind of plain, but fits the bill for now.
