Miss Judith lives at the top of a hill
by the edge of the Barton Spring
in a winding lane that has no name
for those who don’t belong to see.
Her house created quite a stir
when it happened, in '78.
Designed by a guy who gave speeches
about deconstructed space.
She stands in front of a concrete step
That leads to seven more.
Quaking like a just-born foal
She will conquer every one.
When Miss Judith finds the doorway
She hesitates, and frowns;
Chaos and Order, as aesthetic, she thinks
A little unprofound.
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