vanilla wafers
in trash can lids
for the raccoons for two
weeks now.
Your dog is dying. Your
houseplants are dying.
You couldn't keep them
alive if their lives
depended on it. Goldfish
backstroke in the toilet bowl,
and you haven't the heart
to flush it yet.
The Knicks game was tied.
You checked the hallway
twice for strangers but found only
garbage, tricycles.
A rainbow on the deadbolt
where you've scratched
the paint away.
Yesterday you swept
ficus leaves
off the apt. balcony, leaving
the push broom in the rain.
How many minutes
to float 18 stories?
And when will you clutch
the railing, seasick,
file orange
nails on the stucco?
When will you notice the broom's
still there?
We've divided up
the art. He gets
the Alpine landscapes, I get all
the good stuff, Melinda cackled.
She bared her teeth,
hoping. I was listening but
pretended I wasn't. Leaves
stuck under the balcony
door. You stared
at your knees.
I know what you were thinking.
They called you Coconut Knees.
Now you wear only
jeans in August.
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