North and Kedzie

On Kedzie, down which no bus ran, I lived
with a roommate dark and tired as syrup
if syrup were sad all the time, who hated
a roommate selling to cover the rent
of a roommate fired from CVS
who invited the devil incarnate,
Hannah, to crash on our couch… Breath In. Breath –
I gotta get out! I grouched to the man
I loved the first time that winter; I sobbed
If this is my home, I don’t have one.
(The mice hid their muzzles inside the walls;
The moths stopped spying through the window screen.)
But everyone loved me from head to toe,
capitulating – Then you have no home.

Debate

When A walks by, all B’s mental
weather vanes signal a change of direction.
The reigning subject: seismology,
then – first round, a jaw turned fast too hard
and there’s a new middleweight in town.
I swear I will not think of you in ways of which
you would approve. B says to A. The ratings spike.
So who gives in? The redwood or the skeleton key?
Doors swing wide for B though A is more admired.
For A to shy from trouble is no fault–
B feels the plates shift and in turn
is tired to not love A’s god
he is so noble. Still, B’s home is a hive
and flies must wonder what to sting is like.
A, are you tired of being nice?