If  Love were an apartment dweller,

She would be, at best, an exasperating tenant

One nearly always late with the rent and

Brisk with complaint when her rooms

Were too hot, too cold,

Too drafty, or  too …too.

Love will also be the first to complain

That discordant sounds and dripping water

Will stir her from her beauty rest and keep her sleepless

Through riotous nights of her own design

I might be thought to be cruel with love, but I am only

That weary landlord who, aspiring to understand

His tenant, gives up in sheer exasperation

Then decides it is better to have a lonely cat lady

Living in my cellar

Than the wild, frilly, fickle

Ingenue who lives there now.

The eviction notice follows

Without apology

05/15/2001

Posted on 12/10/2002
Copyright © 2024 Ken Harnisch