Scraped

[Semicircle]

Built by the hands of a grandfather
who later disappeared
and was found preaching on a street corner
in Albuquerque,
and an uncle, of whom my last memory
was when he grasped my arm
in the daze of Alzheimers
thinking I was his son,

where I stood on the porch in a storm
and shouted “kingdom” at the lightning,
lost my virginity on a terrifying summer afternoon,
took LSD and waited all night for the milkman,
sat on the steps after seeing Ginsberg read,
writing my own Howl by candlelight.

My father and my son died in that house.
Gone now.  Demolished.  Its earth scraped clean.
Nothing left but the sky.

And remembering, I look to that sky,              He looks "up" - it's more absolute.
waiting patiently for my own dissolution.

The ending would have more impact if the sky was used to ground the character after the major events of each stanza by having him look up to it; the sky remains unchanging making him feel like ultimately, little time has passed. 

The shock of the scraped clean land would shake him, but then he remembers the unchanging sky and waits for his dissolution.

Just a thought, thanks for the read
Sc.