NE 8TH EXT. DRAFT I

 This is one I always meant to finish...

Down the twists and turns to the basement stairs

stumbling through the canned Rainier and Pabst

The house is locked

Twinkle lights swing across the concrete

Portrait of a Cheshire cat 

in  wall peopled in pictures

Drum, key, melodica
In snug tee and tight jeans

Twinkle in the tom toms and tambourine

Like furry woodland animals 
of the crochet concrete forest
In a snow hat, no shampoo

Then there are bells

Looping through like Christmas lights
Through the holes of the walls and the furniture

Seattle is in the basement
Of the house that has one week left to live
Plank by plank.