Glenn Ingersoll House in the midst of the prairie There isn't a road. Except this one. Out of reach in the sky, white cobbles in a jumble. * House of Dimensions My house is awfully tiny. You need a magnifying glass to get a good look at it. Maybe even an electron microscope. You'd have to spray my house with a fine gold mist in order that its delicate features be hardy enough to survive the rigors of electron bombardment. Then again perhaps my house is so big the Earth is as a doorknob to it. That kind of house requires tremendous easy chairs. Awesome lamps. Maybe it's invisible. I have a such hard time finding it. It could just be that it's riding around on my back. Slap me on the shoulder and when the dishes crash and the books tumble from their shelves I'll remember what weight it is that makes me stoop. And if people are looking at my house covetously? That would make me feel important, wouldn't it? And kind of scared. I'd squeeze the house in the crook of my arm, jam my hand into the pocket of the jacket to ensure the tightest grip. My thumb, unable to keep still, would keep tapping the doorbell. I'd start at homeless shadows. Glenn Ingersoll's work has appeared in Exquisite Corpse, Chase Park, and Prairie Schooner, as well as the webzines Cortland Review and can we have our ball back? In 1993 he won the Charles B. Wood Memorial Award from the Carolina Quarterly. A chapbook, City Walks, is available from Broken Boulder Press. Ingersoll lives in Berkeley CA with his sweetie Kent, and dog Flash and two orange kittens. His website is LoveSettlement: http://lovesettlement.homestead.com