When spring hit
house, froze, broke
into thaw

Gridlocked stream came
shattered down
its course

Flung open doors for the carpenter
for spider enters on photo album stage
site of stitches announced

The house could not be left as it was

It was the piercing snap
the grandmother had-it
the scold sting, the glass crash
It was the ping against dwelling
the cut-it-out shush

It was the creak’s exhale
the house shifting on feet
gravity flex
indoor ocean
sand of glass dust

The winter’s ex-gasp
exasp-

When the cabinet fell
it was essay shard
sound the wood knick scrap
scrape the carpet tug towards wreck
in slivered soon-sounds

No prose for the house, no longer
tamer place-held

Finally pieces could be moved without
putting back, there’s no putting back
there’s nothing to put back
there’s no back