I've got a stack of papers waiting for me, and I know I've got to get to them, if only because I'll get drafts this evening at CSU.
I wrote that poem partly because the house we just bought comes to me care of that house, the one in the poem, the one I grew up in. I wanted to acknowledge how influential that place has been in my life, and continues to be, despite my desire to escape it.
My father once said "No one will ever love you but your parents," and I would reply, "Then God help me." I was thinking that if that was the best I could do for love, I was in trouble. But by the end, things had improved of course, and I understand what my father, in his typically spiky way, was trying to communicate.