Is somewhere to climb to
where the light’s
weak in its reach
and not just, as in modern McMansions,
another furnished floor.
There should be
startlingly aerial
dormer vistas
and an unvisited
stowed-away clothes mustiness,
a seasoning of stuff
used by dead people,
preferably babies,
like the pram with cycle-sized wheels
and wide steering bar,
a knitted blanket
perfect for decomposing in,
which makes me wonder
whether along with their other modernizations
the plastic surgeon and his wife
who bought the house
from my parents in 2000
ever got the haunt out,
if not the vulture views.