in a condo at the edge of town
you moved in with your debts and your girlfriend
but she stayed up listening to the ties that bind—
running water, the walls still white.
and the rent always gets paid on time.
and the rent-man always gets paid.
in an apartment, solo, you bought a dog.
in new york city, it’ll follow you home—
hear the tin bowl ring in the sink draped in vines,
hear him howling off fire escapes and into the night.
and the rent always gets paid on time.
and the rent-man always gets paid.
above a coffee shop you lived in a cult.
and how’d you get out?
was it the things your parents said?
or the things you recorded and played back by your bed?
well you left home,
now your name is ringing someone else’s phone.
at the end of the block
you lost a lot,
a lot of blood.
in the shower, your beer tipped over—
did you see it all go down the drain?
did you watch it go down the drain?
i was here before. i knew it the moment i opened that door and walked up the stairs to the second story, basket in my hand, as if if i didn’t keep moving, as if, for a moment, i wasn’t always moving i would be frozen and then i would start slipping backwards down the stairs, around the corner, into my car, driving in reverse, all the way back, down the street, over highway exits crossing state lines, tolls returned to me, back to your door. — tell me
i was here before. i knew it when i saw my mess on the counters, a signature only i can read. old shopping bags, rinds, progresso soup cans, a pile of salt, a receipt: the things i leave behind. and my name still rolling in the trash behind your house: bills and letters, credit card offers. you could dig it up if you’d like, it would serve you. — tell me something
i was here before. i knew it when you left your message to be played in my room, on my phone. you said, and i remember it well, the sound of your mouth opening and closing, a soft sound in between words, you said, “you can’t leave me.” and you said, “you can’t leave.”
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