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Three Poems Previous Tenant |
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In the empty apartment, under the sink, I find an old tea cup, ancient dregs ghost brown stain marring the bone-white bowl, a red-orange lipstick mark on the edge, a parting kiss. I imagine her idle, in the early afternoon, dripping tea on the table, a donut crumbling in her hands. She takes a drag from a Virginia Slim (I found the dusty full ashtrays on the windowsill, hidden behind the tattered lace curtains). She wears her pale yellow chenille robe, a careless singe mark marring the left sleeve, the newspaper spread like a tablecloth |
before her, the light from the half-open blinds just a little too bright. The Abandoned Mind You have to understand this mind was a burden; I didn't really want it. Keeping such a psyche healthy is not a one-person job, and I was so young. It just appeared one day - I didn't even know I'd been carrying it inside my head, thought the  |
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