Dual Coast

The Last Inhabitants by Joanna M. Weston

THE LAST INHABITANTS

this is where the lamp hangs

cockroaches inside the phone

cushions hide half-chewed gum

a coat provides short shift

hang-dog days of winter

cat curled in patch of light

reasonable to assume disguise

behind curtains trimmed to fit

lone bishop parades on rock

half the house cut away

flies heaped on windowsills

chairs warped by fog and rain

no way through locked gates

a gallop of long-horned ghosts

blows through tall grass

purple vetch and bronze sorrel