Part of All You Need

& the young couple who moved in, recommended by your friend Theyre broke, no place to stay, just til he gets a job because you did have room Playing his guitar all night, your kid crying awake, his boots of fashion slipping on the stairs, that one stair, high, he always stumbls on, & the evening you found her at your wife's sewing-machine turning a skirt which she denied was borrowed unquote from the closet full of clothes belonging to the previous lodger who some day soon you hoped would be back from hospital the black unabashedness of her denial, the straight stare Dont ask me to find reasons for my actions the nonsense they talkt, this at least was softly, sitting up, him earnest, hesitant, her voice harsh & frequently amused, you straind to catch, once again unable to sleep, & the day they moved out, tempering your relief with the discovery the closet had been stript, the library, by this pair whose parents undoubtedly were deaf in El Cajon, the still small pleasure of betting the Nietzsche would be gone & it was; the nervous grin on the face of your friend when you reported to him what after all, as he assured you, wasnt his responsibility; he knew them from high school in El Cajon; these two, with the music all night to a heavy beat they listend to in the beat of this instant, the walls of a house moved on from returning with the pictures similarly missing, now theyve left, enter also in the name of LOVE.