party animal

Dear New Tenant,

In my empty house it smells the same as last october and the floor is sticky with spilt drinks, empty nails distrupt the walls and I'm saying good bye to home all day today and all day tomorrow. I sold my couch for 50 dollars with no regard to memories; conversations and bodies weighing it down, tipping it over. The door doesn't work as well as it once did, a push and pull strategy to lock strangers out and the hole in the screen remains, now blocked by glass restricting air flow to keep animals out. My shampoo and tooth paste lasted my whole lease and now I'm starting new, tossing stale food in black bags where I run them to my old work past midnight -clandestine effect. If I knock on the hard wood under my feet- hollow, for they are leaving too and it's true if we are meant to be together again we will but it still hurts a little knowing we aren't a story apart anymore, I won't be waiting around anymore for foot steps on the stair and balcony visits with boys I grew to adore. But I'll remember fruit kabobs and the roots and urban legends and racooons and cuddling and ignoring and coughing and laughter.

I'll miss the green chair in the laundry room, having to use a wrench to start the dryer and napping while it does it's job.

I'll miss the buzzing of the tattoo machine, the collections of people in my house who wouldn't have been there otherwise-all permanently marked with ink, tainted by the air from my apartment. The late night dancing in the dark and lying to get someone to leave it's really all a blur to me now...from chinese food to strobe lights it just seems right, and I'm sad to let this go.
And when you are sweaty in the night remember it's only an excuse to go outside, breathe that air and hear those noises- listen closely to the voices of the drunk and crazy people on Eramosa hill- begging for rain in the dryest week of summer.
And I don't know you and you don't know me but in a way we are connected-I hope you love apartment D as much as me and I hope you're not too hard on it. It's a sanctuary in many ways: having to take a bath everyday- enjoy it.

Sincerely,
Morgan

6 am

phantom smoke rises
and disperses amongst the glow
of the street lamp
the phantom foot steps hadn't reached
7 minutes later
- maybe they were merely rain drops

my pets

mixed feelings

where is your garden?
I'd like to pick all the flowers
to make you feel empty
for twelve hours
while I tie each stem together
into a blanket over you

Apples

Six fragile cores
resting on her bedside table,
performing the trick of time
before our eyes
growing golder, moments older

flattery

I remember waiting for the shadow
tattooed beneath her eyes
one thousand times
I'd tell her
It was my favourite part of her
and no matter how hard I tried
my iron level was always at par
and my nights-sleep long enough