everything in your house is old
and rotting
the milk is two weeks past date
always

people magazine
home and garden
target receipts
empty envelopes
over due phone bills
they should pay you rent
they push you around
make demands
mess up the place

you sit there on your
chair
your purple tweed
chair
you look at me
your eyes look through me
far beyond me
to reruns of the daily show

you talk at me
about politics
you talk at me
about
Republicans
Tax brackets
The middle class

you have five of everything
coffee cups
zip lock bags
the newspaper
slippers

you buy me some too
I don’t ask for them
I don’t need them
I don’t want them
but I take them

aging
excuses
white collared
tooth decay