Gordy built a house of cards -
He named it Metaphor -
It had many open windows
And a space to lean the door.
Gordy used five different decks
Of different colors, faces, counts;
He mixed them all together
In careful planned amounts:
"The bottom floor is family,"
He said, and built it strong.
"The lining porch is all my friends,
Which is why it's sometimes wrong.
"The second floor is messy blue -
My teenage years were rough."
The third floor, all black numbered cards,
Was made of college stuff.
Gordy held the fifth deck close,
Afraid to lay a card -
The red deck was his future,
"And predicting it is hard.
"I could fuck up the whole damn thing,
By just one misjudged move,
Or someone else could level it
Who's got something to prove."
Gordy clutched his deck and stood
By his house, and waited.
The cat slipped by, the card house quaked,
And Gordy hesitated.
Gordy slipped his right foot back,
And balanced on his left.
With one swift kick the house went down,
And Metaphor was cleft.
Gordy left the rubble flattened,
But kept the last red card.
"So I haven't built the future yet.
It shouldn't be that hard."