H
e a r t S o n s & H e a r t D a u g h t e r s of A l l e n G i n s
b e r g
N
a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 1 4 : A r c h i
v e s E d i t i o n
BOB RIXON
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 2010, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs10/index.html.]