Love ain’t what it used to be,
and the air is thicker.
Where once were
shoes; empty space by the door.
All the fur has been cleaned up.
Drawers are empty—
goodbye. Hello.
Weakness! It’s been a while
since you’ve held hands.
Let the music play; dance
out the door. The rain
hasn’t fallen yet but it will.
Those birds used to fly
didn’t they? Who clipped
their abalone wings?
Love ain’t what it used to be,
and the people are sicker.
Where once were
voices; the scream of a freight train
whistle in a deaf man’s ear,
faded paint and stained carpet.
Brick walls indoors.
Food left out as long as possible.
The stench makes you sick.
