the tenants

the tenants
don't care. look at
the front lawn.
those oil cans
in the driveway.
listen to that dog
bark from the window.
laundry on
the line showing
the wear and tear
of someone else's
clothes.
they seemed nice
at first. scrubbed
and polished
for the signing.
but soon, the checks
stopped coming.
and the ones
that did, bounced
like balls against
the floor.
it's hard to get
them out.
they are weeds in
the field.
your field, your
house. you hate being
a landlord.
but they don't seem
to mind
being who they are,
renters
staying put,
keeping warm
in the heated air.