the decision to nuke
his
old apartment,
the one he lived in for
thirty-three years
to not stop
and linger over every
plate and fork
he saved,
each wobbly table
and chair,
the pillows and bed
that he lay upon,
his glasses
left upon
the desk.
the will and wallet,
all the books
upon the shelves.
i decide to plow through
it all
without thinking
and ready
the empty place for the next
tenant.
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