Foundations – Cathy Bray

Everybody has the right to a mother (an expectant baby?)         
who will love and support her.
You did not nor I suspect, have ever had
that support.
As such, a large part of your foundations
are missing.
I rewind the newsreel
and watch in slow motion
as the red brick block
of 1960s units
slips inch by inch
into the tunnel below.
A living room dangles
over the abyss,
the doll’s house furniture
now permanently on ‘Pause’.
The grey silk bedroom double bed
exposed to passing traffic
tilts forward with carpet flagging
and wardrobe doors thrown open to defeat.
A bathroom mirror out of kilter
survives against all odds
as tiles slide
unsupported to the floor.
A hard-eyed ghoul
I gaze at the destruction
and wait with baited breath
for the next move.
While I consider the odds
and survey the damage thus far,
the body corporate initiates
the search for my foundations.