The Critic

Issue date: 2/5/10 Section: Entertainment

I reach for the cigarettes

But I quit awhile ago.

Snarling, I look for the coffee.

But I switched to green tea.

And the cupboards are opened

but there is no booze,

Not even moldy empties.

Just dried fruit and cat food.

Life has been so sedentary

since you have gone.

My hands keep reaching

for things not there;

cups, hands, empty pillows.

Cleaning the house I think

"Who put that book on the table?

And what slob left last week's dishes

in the sink, still!" I must be living

with a stranger, who is familiar

with my things, tossing my keys

in odd places, forgetting to pay

the rent on time. Every so often

this person cleans the house,

I am not so unobservant as to

not recognize when the cat

has stopped mewing to be fed,

but am still surprised when I

see my own self muttering while

wiping down the bathroom mirror.

I must have been very hard to live

with, or a least a little complicated.

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