Out and around behind where a few corners seemed to terminate at once and bundles and bundles of cables converged from above and below to effect an entry into the house and become vascular or lymphatic distributions throughout the walls, carrying varied impulses of light or voltages of electricity to these nooks and niches and spill out into applications, through filters, as patterns.
And again before, where the occasional fare is jetisoned onto the round of pavement leading from a larger thoroughfare, depositing comers on the slate walk-up between full-grown rhododendron plants toward an assuming front porch, not screened in, but like a judgemental observatory from which one can enter the thick wooden portal masking deeper sounds than one imagines could be repressed, and in to the even thicker illusions of wealth and warmth. . . which is only a house, and where on nights such as this the entropic mire of disorder seems to be the only illumination. . .