Bachelor

by Michael Palma

There’s dust all over everything.
One morning when I don’t wake up
They’ll come for my clothes,
Five bucks an armful,
Cleaning out all the closets,
Wiping me off everything.

The mice are into everything.
The sacks have little holes
And seed runs out onto the cellar floor.
The mice snicker as they run away,
Knowing I won’t hurt them,
Limp fetishist of life.

There’s death all over everything.
Last winter when the man was shot
Just up the block, I stood and watched
The flashing lights from my doorway,
Knowing I am no redeemer.
It will be rain tonight. Let it come down.