Useless Things

When I left my last apartment

There were things I didn't need to keep.

A hundred-eighty pound television

That nearly broke my back.

Some books read, and unread.

Some memories best left forgotten.

An end table, cooking utensils, a dying plant.

Humidity, faint light, and the stench

Of suffering and solitude.

I left the tall 60's era Dylan poster

That loomed too large

And made me feel insignificant.

I couldn't look Bob in the eye anymore.

But he didn't make a big deal about it.

Magnanimous gesture, that.

I left a cupboard full of food.

You would have eaten that food, Terrence.

You ate my food, you stole my things.

You were a vulture.

You preyed on the trusting.

I left your ghost in my apartment

Because you are dead to me.

You are a walking junkie corpse.

A sallow, thin-lipped piece of nothing.

Most of all I left you behind.