In my house
The walls are a non-offensive off-white,
All fixtures are handsomely standardized,
And window panes are double-glazed
To insure complete isolation in winter or summer.
In my house
There are oceans of acrylic carpet
With wooden islands of Grandma furniture,
Mirrors that create a price-conscious
illusion of double-space (for the same price),
We have floor-to-ceiling blinds to keep out the view
Mirrors to convince you that less is more.
In my house
There is even a mantle piece
Of real oak lumber over the tin fireplace–
It makes the contractor nervous though,
He won't make that mistake again.
The neighborhood's guaranteed statistically sterile--
No charge.
Sixteen miles of stalled traffic with bay view
No charge.
There are even hovering helicopters to tell you
all about it.
No charge.
In fact,
You have all you really need to end it all
Right here––
With the ultimate in electronic security.
You can lock yourself in,
You can sit and read.
You can have your own thoughts.
You can sleep whenever you care to.
But sooner or later
You will end it all.
A TV is waiting on the livingroom table.*
*Not included.