Tenement
The dead are downstairs neighbors we think we might have passed once or twice in the hall.
They gave us a mean look for what seemed like no reason.
Rumor is they’re mad at us because we keep them up all night with our singing and dancing.
Even if we’re only talking and walking.
Talking and walking sounds like singing and dancing to them.
It makes them angry that they’re paying so much for a basement apartment.
Even though the rent is free.
Where there should be a chandelier, white roots dangle down.
The floors are compacted dirt.
There are no windows.
The pipes leak.
The walls are infested with rodents.
But they could endure all these indignities.
They never expected to live in a mansion.
All they really want is for us to try and keep it down up here.
You see, they’re trying to sleep all the time.