3 cups of pee-pee

(Palacio Salvio in Montevideo, Uruguay, via Wikipedia)

Controversial bodies.

I've lived in basements, attics, once a haunted house;
it's streets they change that scourge me, like a phantom limb.

What will they flush at last from this beleagured wood,
executive or marsh gas, prey in the vast spook hunt?

So i build crooked, hang my pictures awry as well
without that one innate essential: spirit level.

Not of the poor we hear all day, amid our racket
of guns, toys, distracting nonsense: banshee cry.

What does Graywyvern mean, collecting those mere names
once thought so real, & then no more: the ghost planets?