the new tenant

a new tenant moves
in next to you.
she is beautiful.
her hair is long
and brown, it shines
in the elevator light.
she is angelic
as she carries up
her yoga mat, and
exercise ball, a
box of kitchen
utensils, and other
assorted girl stuff.
she is alone. she
doesn't even have
a cat, or a child,
or a plant to get in
between you, if it
ever came down to
that. you think
about what you can
say to her, what
clever words you
might have saved up
from years of
experience
of bothering
attractive women.
you can tell her
that you write poetry,
or pull up your sleeves
and open a jar of
olives to show her
your strength, or
perhaps you can sing
loudly in the shower
that is next to her
apartment and impress
her with your vocal
abilities. but
of course, you do none
of this. your wife
would not approve.
she would know that
you were up to
something again, and
would put a stop to it.
she is always
getting in the way
of your fun. you blame
everything on her
that has gone wrong
in your life.