Carnival stars masked as streetlights
lead you to a dark green house
at the end of a street you’d never

dare go down, for no real reason,
of course. People have found here
reasons for living, reasons for dying,
And the cracked paint is patterned;
you just don’t know how.

Where is the line you came from?

The line that led here?
You can find no doorbell inside
You can find no anything
Only footsteps, a few heads
saturate in colors..And the man
that holds your letter just approaching.