and threw him crashing alone.
He lay on a funeral mound
of pictures, forgotten board games.
Men murmured in the oak floor,
women through pipes around the room.
Voices widened cracks into gaps.
A breeze blew through; the plaster sank
exhausted, crushing his ghost house.
Harding, Paul. Tinkers. New York: Bellevue Literary Press, 2010. Print.