Vacant apartment

The people in the place across the airspace have gone.
I never knew them.
I never will.

They didn’t have curtains.
I saw slices of their life; their bright lamp annoyed me.
They had a huge television.
Sometimes they were awake well into the early morning.
That fucking lamp stayed up, too.

He had long hair and he seemed serious but
She’d smoke outside on the balcony, clearly enjoying every drag.

For a while there was a dog inside, in a cage.
My cat is completely free.
She always has been free.

On Christmas day a man was on the balcony and we talked.
He was just passing through, he said, the kids and all that,
Christmas and Minnesota, too, wherever the hell that is.

Just passing through, eh?

I hate vacant apartments.

About Russ Wollman

My feet are finally in the water, and I want to keep them there.
This entry was posted in City Center, Humor, Loneliness, Manhattan, New York and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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