Lost in a Town of Pigs

You're the same color as the house
curtains carpet and even the shoe boxes you've stacked hastily in that corner
Today I wouldn't think of the girl you saw in the cafe
her tight face poured into a textbook of which you couldn't make out the subject
though you tried
her companion involved in a murder mystery
of whom you've decided loved her
in spite of the spotch of a birthmark staining her shoulder
perhaps, you'd perfected---
loved especially that
but kept it pocketed and agreed that it's
barely noticable
Don't think of that now
while you're wrapped in rugs
hanging level on the wall an idea
that with a huff and a puff
you could blow this house down.