Ever since I was a kid, I’ve loved poems and stories that build on themselves—ones where each new line adds something to what came before. You might know stories like “The House That Jack Built” or “There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly.” They’re fun because you can almost predict what’s coming next, and sometimes you can even join in as they go along.
I’ve always wanted to write a poem like that, something that stacks one idea on top of another, step by step.
I also really enjoy stories that are a little bit meta. That’s a fancy word that means a story that knows it’s a story. For example, in my book MORE BEARS!, the author is actually inside the story, trying to write it while everything keeps going wrong. I’ve also written poems where I discover words and turn them into the very poem you’re reading, or where the poem loops around and ends up right back where it started. I even wrote one about building a time machine after my future self came back to show me how!
So when I wrote this poem, I wanted to combine those ideas, a poem that builds and builds, and maybe does something a little surprising along the way. I hope you enjoy it. This is…
On the Street There’s a House
On the street there’s a house.
On the house there’s a door.
Through the door there’s a room.
In the room there’s a floor.
On the floor there’s a stain.
On the stain there’s a rug.
On the rug there’s a leaf.
On the leaf there’s a bug.
On the bug there’s a wing.
On the wing there’s a vein.
On the vein there’s a zigzag
that leads to a lane.
On the lane there’s a car.
In the car there’s a seat.
In the seat there is you
as you drive down the street.
On the street there’s a house.
On the house there’s a door.
Through the door there’s a room.
Do I need to say more?
— Kenn Nesbitt
