I have become a house

in which no one lives

only ghosts of people

who were here

and the world is muddy

and wet and slippery

silencing everyone

even the birds

and animals

and in me slowly there

is howling when

the wind blows

and crying and cursing

and arguing

and out there

all of a sudden

there is base butchery

smashing heads

with stones

rape and castration

and arson

and I look

and keep looking.