Off the Market

You’ll admit you keep your house
A bit too cool for most folks—
Actually, anyone else.

It cuts down the visitors.
Also, you don’t cook. Nothing
Passes for homey in here,

Although you’ve kept it tidy
And spare, lacking huge messes,
Loud arguments, or passion

Of any kind. You’ve cut down
On your cold baths and long swims
Grey afternoons in the lake,

And you do alternate lights,
Take out the trash, and so forth.
You’re not ice. You’re half-hearted.

Your place needs dusting, sweeping,
Vacuuming, scrubbing. It’s neat,
But it gathers sediments,

Which makes it seems like no one
Lives here, where you live, no one
Has lived here, and no one would.