There is nothing magnificent or mysterious in this house

You need feel no awe, no hesitation.

Waitrose and daytime TV

have rotted our souls,

the world's pulse is not felt here.

But the chairs salute us,

frozen palace guards,

defenders 'gainst chaos.

Not even pot plants.

They are alive,

life is always blemished

and the blemished is banished.

Perfect perfect perfect,

everything must be perfect,

so the perfect improvements

on the perfect house

must be even more perfectly perfect

than the original bloody perfection.

So precarious.

Perfectly precarious.

Puffball perfection.

Poof.........