Streaks Of Grey Running Through Her Hair

Streaks of Grey running through her hair

Like fingers wearing

Too many rings; I pick up the phone to her

Shrill voice. Like a bird,

I think, as she tells me my rent is

Long Overdue.

I tell her the birds on the tree outside my apartment are not as pretty as they think they are.

She tells me she does not understand.

People have left her before, gone too soon

Broken her heart

Broken their lease

She pinches her lips together whenever she looks at you

Like she is disgusted with what she sees

You are such a cunt, Marsha.

I tell her I will pay rent whenever I damn well please and that she should be happy to have it late

At least then, she can have somebody to call on the phone

And bother with her horrible voice

She tells me I am her worst tenant.

I tell her I wish she were dead.

Neither of us have anyone else to talk to, so we stay on the line.