Houses

HOUSES If i lived in a house blended with ripened banana, clusters of the fresh green fruit extruding in abundance from the roof, i wouldn't have to cook my meal; surviving handsomely on slices of sugary white pulp. if i resided in a house made of invincible steel bereft of corrugations, and the beds being of molten iron curry, i would seldom fall into bouts of sleep; roaming around wildly in sheer insomnia. if i dwelt in a house impregnated with fearsome alligator skin, bold premonitions of the monster encroaching would nictitate in my mind, prompting me to sweat even in the freezing winter night. if i occupied a house painted with cow dung plaster, with fresh cakes of goat manure adhered to the floor, the preposterous stench would suffocate me to unwarranted death. if i slept in a house made of articulate time pieces, the needle hands ticking in obstreperous unison, i would continue to inhabit this earth with a niggling consciousness of evanescent time. if i occupied a house with symmetrical holes in the roof, with barren spaces impersonating clerestory windows, water would cascade down torrentially in the monsoon, transforming my abode into a sea of fresh liquid. if i established my entity in a house juxtaposed with slabs of yellow gold, also an incessant cascade of sparkling silver from the tall roof, i would be sure of wasting the remainder of my life counting the affluence i possessed. and if by chance i procured a house in sacrosanct realms of heaven, with fairy god mothers flying around, the philanthropic personality of almighty ready to converse with me all day, i would consider myself as someone blessed with the most cherishable house of all.