567

I’ve got neighbors
and three poems
that start with
“she said”
I’ve got sores
and a grimace
you’ll get used to me
neighbor
I pace at night and am cold
in the morning
you’ll get used to me
I’ll slip this to you
ask about your family
they seem to stay together

when my roommate leaves
I will scream for a bit
it’s just the walls
and nicotine which has stopped working
join in
I’ll call it howling
and be oh so quaint
just like my schoolyard friends
just like them
but just like everyone else
at 2 that can’t stand upright