by Rick Czaplewski
Somehow, the floor had gotten wet.
Droplets on the wood,
Again, strewn puddles, my roommate
Made another mess, of course he would.
He ate with fervor, shaking,
Tipping, trembling his bowl
Until food fell out and all over,
Then he would eat sometimes half, sometimes whole.
His things spread across the basement
Floor. Items placed here and there.
He would never pick them up
He couldn’t even care.
When I would build a fire
In the fireplace, finally he would sit
Me, alone, on the couch,
My roommate directly in front of it.
But together we would take a daily
Constitutional, to him it just a walk.
The conversation ground to a halt
My roommate would barely talk.
When I got sick
My roommate took care of me.
By jumping on my back
Not letting me rest comfortably.
How did this come to be
How did this roommate I get?
My roommate was not a man,
Instead he was my pet.
When his lease began to lapse
I knew we would soon be apart.
My roommate could not pay the rent
Because of disease in his heart.
And one day, my roommate dog passed away
And the next month’s rent was due
This place is not the same anymore
Because I really miss you.