My cat didn’t notice

I abandoned her,

But my apartment did.

It doesn’t smell like me anymore.

Television sets

Have invaded the space

They won’t let the stereo breathe.

My reading lamp 

Is lying on its side,

Crippled.

Lost are the keys

To my bicycle’s lock,

And all good pots are gone

From my kitchen.

It isn’t home

If you can’t cook dinner.

I feel anxiety mounting

So I have a glass of the Cointreau

We took from my dead Grandfather’s place.

Mine looks soulless like his did

When my father and I sat brooding in it,

After his burial.