The Economist


I am paying for someone to clean my apartment before Tonya and Rafael come home. I broke four vases. Busted a dish. Skinned the cat. Destroyed a pan. Killed a plant. Burned a door. Teared the rug and broke a chair.
And it’s not that I’m mean or I’m gross or I’m messy.
Or, I can’t take a call without spilling my latte.
Or, can’t ride a bike without smashing a taxi.
These walls seem to ask, no, beg for a riot,
When I open the door and it sounds so quiet.

One thought on “The Economist”

  1. how mini elan is this photo? …and how sorry am i that mr. pinter is no longer with us. thank-you for making me appreciate him as much as i should have. i never would have w/o an actor like you who delivered.

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