The speaker buys a spacious new house, but instead of feeling at home, he feels invaded. The many objects fill every corner “like a horde of locusts,” so the space becomes crowded and restless. Memories are reduced to quiet, shy presences tucked on the sofas, while greed moves through the rooms loudly, grinning and cursing. The speaker names the feeling plainly: the house is “complete with everything,” yet he is not comfortable at all. What should feel like success feels like a trap. By the end, he longs to escape this “bogey prison-house” and return to a small childhood hut. That humble place now seems enormous because it held something the new house cannot: the freedom and limitlessness of a child’s imagination. The mood is claustrophobic, wistful, and quietly defiant.
My House — Summary
The army of things, like a horde of locusts has occupied up to the smallest corners almost all the space of my big house, which I just bought.
Memories of my past, like shy children lie wordlessly on the angles of the sofas and armchairs.
Greed, like a hussy, wanders around the rooms, grinning, showing off, shouting and cursing.
New house, big, all complete with everything, Yet I don’t feel comfortable at all.
I want to leave this bogey prison-house, which I just bought, and go to my small hut, to that tiny, yet huge house, immense as my childhood’s unlimited imagination.