The dolls’ house is in a constant state of crisis,
daughter’s shrieking head stuck in bay window,
father drunk-collapsed among living-room debris,
headless son dangling from attic feet-down –
“Oh noooo, not again!” – after an earthquake,
mother cowering from ten-foot dog in cellar
who’s snarl-woofing among the wreckage
while fire-persons Snow White and Cinderelly
surround them all with Fisher Price sirens,
prophetically pre-empting inevitable fires.
Only grandma sits still on her attic chair,
ignoring grandson’s upturned soles, alone
untouched by natural disasters,
her thoughts silent, wooden.