the house falls away beneath my
brother while he sleeps.

my brother & i are bad dream 
people-- 
we wake up from separate beds
& walk down the staircase
to play black jack together 
at the kitchen table while
we wait for sleep to take
us back-- 
there is no dealer & 
both of us don't take winning
very seriously-- 
he says that
last night the house fell away beneath
him again-- wall by wall &
i say i remember it too--
he lives in the attic where
we used to raise blanket forts &
elope the way only siblings know
how to-- we saved rations
of milano cookies & goldfish crackers--
stole the cushions off the couches to
furnish the interior of
the bed sheet canopy--
lightning storm struck the microphone 
poles we'd used to hold up
the sides-- we are lightning rod
creatures--
thunder-clap mouths--
we are the children who can't
help but run away--
we make bets with chocolate coins
from my uncle's treasure chest
above his fridge--
the foil around each confection
is electric from the rain--
he asks if when i sleep
if the house ever falls
away from under me-- 
& i laugh because of course it
does-- we feel
the cracks along the walls in
the living room--
the eternal curse 
of the rift in the foundation
of the house in fleetwood that
we left to sink back into the
earth-- we carry plaster &
rollers & try to work
to keep up with the disintegration 
of the walls around us--
i make over-cooked 
scrambled eggs & we split them
dabbed with ketchup so
our lips look like they're bleeding--
we love our other brother
but he's younger & doesn't remember
what it was like to get lost in
a supermarket on purpose or
how to crawl under the shelves in
the movie store up the street--
we are the kind of runaways
that are only found when we 
want to be-- & we don't want to be
anymore--
tonight he wins the pot of
chocolate golden coins-- 
i had 21 but i didn't want to win
so easily in the last hand--
it would seem like a dishonor to
the night we had spent by chance--
my brother asks me if the house
ever falls apart beneath me
& so we walk up the stairs together
like when we were young enough
to believe in a fear of shadows--
he holds the edge of my shirt
& i pretend like i don't see
teeth & eyes glow in the dark
& under our rusting bunk beds--
i walk him back up the sleep
while the house shakes & shakes--
i tell him it's only the wind
& the pipes cracking their knuckles
like they did when we were smaller
& everything was an action of
the paranormal-- 
today we ignore the ghosts
so they talk louder-- the woman
inside the radiator & the man dangling
from a single chord from the stairwell--
our house is a mourge of all
the things we've ever feared together
or separately-
close your eyes 
i say
go to sleep
& we wake up in separate
beds with the taste of chocolate
coins & foil in our mouths.