I think of this house
as the Titanic
too many rooms,
too many chairs and things
and music eternally playing.
There's no mad dash here
for the life boats.
No one else seems to feel
the impending doom,
the sinking to the bottom of the sea.
The collision has already happened
and we are on a course,
headed for disaster.
What remains is how much or how little
we can salvage.
What really matters is so fleeting, forgotten.
I empathize with the captain's sense of duty
and honor to go down with the ship,
except I am not the captain
nor even the head baker who survived;
I'm just a cook.