Perhaps I am to blame
for all the world’s melancholy

I remember sitting at our favorite outdoor cafe smoking cigarettes, watching the sparrows circling the crumbs, expertly avoiding those pigeons who we concluded were part of a nefarious terrorist cell.

three espressos in you lit a cigarette
and you asked me.

So here we are,
you knew I was a horrible house sitter
before you asked
I suspect, deep down
you wanted your plants to die.

I know what you’re going to say
but I will go to my grave insisting your
goldfish was already dead, when you tossed
me your keys and ran out the door.

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