the bed in the basement

she couldn't sleep in the same
room with me.
you snore, she said.
like a hound dog.
I don't get one minute
of sound sleep
when you're here.
so she put me in the basement
on the futon,
which had magazines stacked
against it.
a horse hair blanket
and a saddle
was at the end, which I pushed
off with my feet.
it tilted so that
my head was
lower than my body by
six inches.
it was where the dog slept
when she went to work during the day
and I could feel
the indented circle of
her body where I lay.
at night,
I could hear her feet
walking above
me, in the real bedroom
where the real bed
was and tried to think
of things
that didn't anger me.