Ode to My Old Apartment

the familiar must from the decade-old carpet
is overcome by the putridness of lusting
now in this eastern corner of my bedroom
where three colors blended all under a light
to form a healthy shade of flesh. this was
where elephants roamed and corks were popped
before all that in feeling came about
like a rabid dog facing off against rabbits in the garden:
the tomato vines grew and grew until they became black
in silence—the way the game is played.

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