Wednesday, January 25, 2017

purging

my meagre,
thirty-article wardrobe
gets rid of things
he bought for me
or that i bought
for him (not much,
though i wanted to,
though i was not
broke, not yet,
"all you care
about is
money!"
and i
just stopped):
he left it all
that was
too cheap
for him
to care for.

i go into the kitchen,
the bathroom,
the living room,
i stand and
stand and
stand and
stare:
all
must
go.
except,
of course,
landlady's things.

what will remain,
of these
two years
of accumulation,
future-hopeful?

nothing,

i, too,
was left,
i, too,
was erased.
as was
our future,
never to be.

2017|01|25


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