Anatomy of a Poet, or This Old House
written by: David Estringel
roof tiles gray n thin
falling away in the sun
like ash ‘round my feet
windows cloud n warp
with the long passing of one
too many hothouse summers
the paint outside cracks
and flakes – bare patch betrayals—
ebbing pulse lull
the kitchen screen door
sticks—hinges in need of grease—
in its ever-shrinking frame
floorboards ‘round the stove
creak and sink underfoot, it’ll
need a cleaning soon
pictures on the wall
faded, some slipped from the hook,
crash down in silent thuds
dust storms in dark corners,
settle ‘round pillows and teacups
I write “Wash me, please”
but
the studs are solid,
foundation holding strong. Ghosts
seem to know their place
and
the morning cock still
crows in the yard, pecking at
its lil yellow stones
David Estringel is a Xicanx writer, Professor of English, and EIC at The Argyle Literary Magazine and Blood+Honey with words at The Opiate, Cowboy Jamboree, Dreich, Mythic Picnic, Literary Heist, Street Cake, The Milk House, BULL, The Hooghly Review, Drunk Monkeys, The Daily Drunk, and The Honest Ulsterman. David has published seven poetry/hybrid collections, six poetry chapbooks, and one co-authored novel Escaping Emily through Thirty West Publishing House.
Latest posts by David Estringel (see all)
- Anatomy of a Poet, or This Old House - April 3, 2026
- Boy with a Box Full of Wasps - January 2, 2025
- Cajeta (Gimme Some Sweet!) - October 2, 2024
