the robbers
my wife and i joke sometimes
about what would happen
if our apartment got robbed
of course, this is no laughing matter
but what would the robbers think
if they waltzed into our place with its 26-inch tv
that you can’t even watch foreign films on
because the subtitles are so tiny
the vcr/dvd combo for christ’s sake
cd in stacks like ancient roman ruins
and books…goddamned books everywhere
the tech: a pc and laptop, both six years old
little jewelry on hand and clothing fraying at the seams
t-shirt and socks heading toward a decade
no cash on the premise
and a seventeen year old cat
who’s random shit piles they might step on
as they case the joint
what would these thieves even take?
expired light beer and jug vodka in the fridge
half-empty ice cube trays and questionable sour cream
original art in yellowing stacks on cardboard desks
that the shitty poetry mags don’t even want
the action figures taken out of the packages
those poor burglars
picking the one apartment in all of brooklyn
whose whole life is one obsolete technology after another
all of that expert criminal activity wasted on this?
sitting here now, feeling like a luddite, a relic
i wonder how it is that we even live here
how maybe we should go out and get the latest technology
smartphones and ipads and fitbits
and watches we can talk into like spies
devices that will wash us and brush our teeth
a sixty-five inch LED smart television
that tracks what we watch
a blue-ray combo that streams like a mighty river
go top shelf and buy prepared meals online
update the wardrobe and go name brand
stuff some cash in between the couch cushions
get a boutique pet or even cable
go on a real, honest to goodness
credit card bloating, downhome american shopping spree
get drunk and go to bed with the doors wide open
to this crazy sweltering city
and see what happens
a vile purloining of all of our new fancy possessions
or just waking up the next day
feeling hungover and
hollow
like something else much more dear to us
had been lifted and taken
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