alone but not lonely

living alone

has it merits, i think, as

i sit

here in my BVD's,

sipping coffee,

with the window open

and the music

turned up,

just right for my ear.

and those clothes on

the floor,

those dishes

in the sink,

the clutter of newspapers

and shoes

strewn about,

no sweat.

three games on the tube

this 
Sunday,

i need to place my bets.

i hear no voice telling

me,

to get my feet off the coffee

table,

or take your shoes

off before you track mud

on the rug.

and dear, once more,

you left the butter out,

here, wake up,

do you hear me,

you need to go to the store,

i have a list,

i believe the milk

has gone sour.