Yankee assumtions were wrong .

This 'aint no promised land .

Dusty vista from a kitchen window .

Unlooked window in a sunshine yellow kitchen .

Cobweb claimed crevices and cracks .

White deer bones bleaching in the yard .

Untrod yard that bleeds with the screams of Dorothy .

Painted flakes litter the linted floors of all rooms .

The cellar coal furnace is long dead and rust taken .

The galvanised wringer stands idly watching .

Broken window sashes frame the western orchard .

Old cars rust quietly in weeds , moaned at by kissing wind .

The ribs of barns stare east at wild wheat and grass .

Funky little ghost town , long dead , long gone .

And this empty house is just one bone .

In a skeleton of abandoned human desire .