Left to My Own Devices
by Joseph Tatum
Drawers hang open like some dumb tongues
Hanging out of mute wooden mouths,
Lights are left on – I don’t mean to do this, but I do,
Music’s weirder and louder too,
Dust can be seen (my friend says it’s dead skin piling up),
The bed’s not right,
Don’t always lock the front door at night,
More beer cans, in general,
And the shower’s dirtier and so is dinner.
I know. She makes this so much brighter.