(McKinley)

I could build houses that wouldn't bend with the breeze,

not like my own home of not so brave straw, with a wolf

living in every part of the yard. They don't mean

to be greedy, that's just what they are.

Falling asleep I feel the walls bending

close to a buckle. Auntie Em, Auntie Em

God would you look what's coming.

This was no storm I could sleep through,

like some silly Dorothy, it blew

holes in me before I could say,