The first frail crocuses in the garden
& the two cruel glue mousetraps in the attic
link in my mind
as the buzzing of overlapping wavelengths.

These come together to form a plot
which concerns a house,
ordinary in appearance on the outside
but built like a carousel on the inside
so that when I exit the bathroom,
walk down the hall & through another door
I enter the same bathroom.

A sign on the wall informs me
that I will be supplied with a rope ladder
in the event of fire, & will be served
a strong tea to help me sleep deeply
yet remember my dreams.

It goes on like this all night,
a man whose voice sounds like
he is wearing an expensive, dark suit
whispering in my ear, What do you know
& how long have you known it?