from Sometimes Things Seem Very Dark—Poems for Francesca Woodman.

18.
[My House]

is what a room
says, the dusty strata
what holds nothing, is
a placenta of that
plastic. Some bad speech
alit, fruit-like from
the wood. Adjust
in time to peer,
adjust in time to summon
to walk, to walk &
remind as smoke, as
balloon-air, as spider
or leech; mote
motion 
cease,      to remind
                such a thing
can never remain still for it.