The landlady informs me she owes me hundreds of dollars.
Apparently, I’ve been overpaying her for months.
What she doesn’t know is I’m building a house for her as a present.
Inside the house there will be a colorful tomb.
I will push her into this colorful tomb.
She doesn’t know it yet. I have so many tricks up my sleeve.
It’s because I’m passive aggressive. It’s because I’m mean and violent.
Have you built a house with a colorful tomb at its center yet?
The sea has a center. And everyone loves the sea
because the sea loves no one. She pulls in everything: the nursery,
the moon, the glass of milk the moonlight
shines through on the kitchen counter.
If I had to compare the sea to something
I'd compare her to the sea.
Sandra Simonds is the author of Mother Was a Tragic Girl (Cleveland State University
Poetry Center, 2012) and Warsaw Bikini (Bloof Books, 2009). Her poems have appeared
in the American Poetry Review, POETRY, the Believer and elsewhere.
She lives in Tallahassee, Florida. Visit her at sandrasimonds.com