he's a better me

the man

who stole my identity

is living in

my house now.

i dropped my wallet on the subway

and he became

me.

he's walking my

dog, taking my kids

to school,

making love to my wife.

everyone is happy now,

i stand out

in the street

and watch him, as he

paints the shutters

and mows the lawn,

digs up the weeds.

he's in the backyard

now

cooking on the grill,

saying hi

to the neighbors.

he's friendly.

no one seems to miss me.

the real me.

in fact,

he's a better me, 

in that

i don't disagree.