It has been in fact, far too long. This one is entitled “Room”
I decorate with dirty dishes
on window panes,
their adverts to my neighbors,
colours and variations and shapes and handles,
I am prepared for all weather,
tissues, and chords.
Candles, lights, fans,
and a record player for
All kinds, I said.
These walls have held me home
and kept me alone.
I vacuumed everything,
piled all my things high on the bed
to reach the corners.
They were probably more comfortable dirty,
and I’ve never rested as well in my bed
as I did when you were here.
A single seems full now.
I decorate myself for view,
a site broken by half drained bottles and bowls.
The air is struck with LP serenades
that gather all my grace for the friends
watching through the windows.