Susan Senator

Soda cans and dirty plates lie lazily in the sink,
enjoying their own sticky odors like filthy children
joyful three days without a bath
A breakfast of English muffin, not the stale sameness of Big Bird yellow eggs
because I felt like it.

Your drawers are left open
where you crammed your clothes in, so that your pants hang outside
I can see your long legs filling them.

And the TV cabinet is closed
The clashing colors of your videos are now hidden
Peace to my eyes, sadness to yours.
My handbag sits with open mouth and zipper teeth gaping
hungry and stupid, waiting to be fed
Like us, bright shiny family of four.

There is freedom with you gone.
My house, my self, can relax
But the languid ease of your absence
The sloppiness of Normal
Is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to bear.