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The Burglar


You are always sneaking

into my apartment

when I am not at home

using the key you never returned.


I could not find the screwdriver

until it appeared

beneath a bookshelf in a bag

with the pliers I never put there.


When I reached for the spaghetti

in the cabinet above the stove,

it was gone, so were the corn flakes.

Did I eat them in my sleep?


Now the old broom is missing.

There are no secret closets

in this small, cluttered home.

Did you command it to fly away?


You are always stealing things I need,

but I know I hide them from myself,

& you have not come back

& I have nothing you want.



[Originally published in NHS 2004, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs04/Bob_Rixon.html.]