#landlord
sorry, no pets
no pets allowed
constantly,
no matter
how much higher
we go above asking price.
they tell us,
tenants have rights,
to formally beg
to keep a pet,
and landlords
must consider
each request.
bite me.
because ares
is apparently
dirtier than a child,
crayon on the walls,
smearing god knows what on tile,
sticking stuff up nose and ears,
to guarantee a hospital stay overnight.
please.
he drinks from human glass.
sleeps like a king.
catches butterflies
and runs at the sound
of a door opening.
he’s neater than i am.
neater than you.
what’s your excuse
for the issues reported,
but never followed through?
Aug 16, 2025
Aug 16, 2025 at 10:40 AM UTC
Living together:
neighbours, and the landlord who --
doesn't even know us.
Jul 31, 2025
Jul 31, 2025 at 2:26 AM UTC
I don’t know how many knocks
I’ve had upon my door and
opened it to the sight of
some poor, ill-fated,
hapless crumb ***
standing there
with another
sob story:
“I got kicked out of my house
and I don’t know why.”
it was always the same thing
and yes, they put on quite
a show during their
initial screening
with their
spongy eyes
like ****** cakes
and as vulnerable as a
clay pigeon shot into space.
I’d buy into their dinosaur tears
and they knew I’d take them in
because I was an enabler.
I could never say no.
and next thing you know there was
bodies on the couch,
bodies in the bathtub,
bodies in the basement,
all drunk, drug-addled
and without women.
each time a new one entered the house
it always ran in the same sequence:
first, everything would
start off good, fun even;
they’d buy the beer,
I’d provide the music,
the music brought conversation,
the conversation brought laughter,
the laughter brought moments of joy
and the beer, the music, the conversation,
the laughter is what kept those nights alive.
many lively nights had passed.
gradually, they grew more
comfortable with settling in.
subtly, their courage piqued enough
to overstep some boundaries but not
enough to notice it or brush it off.
they were testing me.
seeing what they could get away with.
I was a pushover,
allowing myself
to get steamrolled
by their daringness.
then I noticed that none of them secured employment.
they’d pour their excuses all over me as to why
they couldn’t work or even pay me rent.
I imagined some interviewer
flipping through pages of their resumes
extending out a long rap sheet of various jobs
knowing they wouldn’t last long.
their twenty-four hour presence
thickened the tension in the house;
up and down the stairs
in and out of the front door
beer run after beer run
& continuous song writing.
I’d come home after the 12 hour shift
to beer cans preoccupying every
countertop and table in the place.
and just like that, I became both the
innkeeper and the house maid.
their incompetent and noise-laden identities
had troubled and angered my counterpart.
it wasn’t her fault though.
she had to put up with
my poor decision making:
I ran our home like a flophouse,
like a homeless shelter, like a charity ward,
like an adult foster care center.
I was inexcusably bad at playing landlord
and at subletting my house.
too much resentment had burst.
she’d curse me. we’d get into it.
the arguing would get out of hand.
then one of them would boldly step up
and say something robust and tumultuous,
interrupting our personal affairs,
as if it was their business,
as if they were now
running the show.
I’d let my emotions get the best of me and snap back at them.
boy, oh boy, did they have an answer for everything.
confrontations were never my strong suit and
winning an argue with these dolts seemed virtually impossible.
I had trouble saying what I really meant and what I really felt.
things never got resolved.
suddenly, it was starting to become abundantly clear;
as to why they couldn’t hold down a job,
as to why no one else would house them.
we’d return to our corners,
let some time blow over and
then reconvene at some later point.
burying the hatchet over a few suds,
only this time I was buying the beer
and they were taking over the music
and the conversations were awkward and dull.
the nights were quickly dying into a stale dankness
our eyes met in silence, there was no more laughter,
the room became uncomfortable, aloof, standoffish
no matter how much the beer and the music worked its charm.
the quality of our lives had gyrated into pure toxic sludge
we were pushed and pushed and pushed beyond our limits.
I was brought out of character; a reasonable man,
driven to do unreasonable things, I too, like so many
before me, had to kick them out of my house and they
hadn’t a clue as to why. they’d put up their fight,
they’d storm out with a dramatic exit and act
like I was losing something valuable.
oh yes, there was a time, when I believed it would be easier
to live in sheer misery over hurting someone else’s feelings.
I was too busy pulling knives out of everyone else’s back
that I didn’t realize how many were stuck in my own
but after many years of waiting it out,
I finally got the message
and had to pin
eviction notices
on the doors
of my beliefs
and on the doors
of the strays,
the rejected
and the runts
of the liter.
Feb 6, 2025
Feb 6, 2025 at 4:55 PM UTC
The big man upstairs
Once and for all
Disabused me of the notion
That he was in fact
God himself
And just my landlord
Living on the top floor
Yelling at me
Through the wall
That my rent is overdue
May 19, 2020
May 19, 2020 at 1:05 PM UTC
It's that time of the month again, your rent is due.
You'd better pay up or I'll beat the hell out of you.
Don't try to get out of paying again, I don't want to hear an excuse.
Stop trying to get pity by saying you were a victim of ****** abuse.
I want my money, I don't want to hear excuses or lies.
When it comes to giving me an excuse, don't even try.
Do I get my money or do you get a beating?
Pay me or my fists are what you'll be eating.
You just insulted me, you said that I'm so fat that I look like the Goodyear Blimp.
I just punched you in the face and you've started crying because you're a wimp.
Stop blubbering like a two year old, be mature like an adult.
And I will permanently disable you if you hurl anymore insults.
I'd like to avoid sending you to the emergency room and myself to jail.
Just gimme my **** money, I'm getting tired of having to raise hell.
Aug 11, 2019
Aug 11, 2019 at 2:28 PM UTC
sometimes you can't only
rent space in your mind
to the ones you want to be there
this landlord
cannot control every tenant's
presence
but I think if you once leased
a suite
maybe even penthouse
I've got you in a
cramped studio
jacking up the rent
some people even own property
but you're on the way out
until maybe the last trace
of you
is a mis-labeled buzzer
or a letter
that never received
your change of address
Dec 15, 2016
Dec 15, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
Breath
In
&
Out
The neuro-
toxins of
your sad
and ever fighting struggle
(BLACK MOLD)
Hopefully
you do make
It out alive.
Here
Here-
Let's praise a cheer and hope
Hope
Wish
&
Pray
For the very best
My dear....BLACK
PLIGHT
PLAGUING &
Mold ing
Me asunder:
Death.
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 11:00 PM UTC
Trees hold the deep earth together way below with crooked fingers of the underworld and catches foul above
Upward to the heavens on finger towers,
clapping on winds they shake their dander
And the makers of green bras on mountain tops
They are the landlords of ground,and air beasts, and
incumbent giants of the ages
They whisper being puppeteered by winds of old
They are the alchemists of oxygen
They are dangling playgrounds
They are the Autumn crunches beneath our feet
Trunk etchings by bards, trees reflecting
cultures' dissemination
We walk under penumbras that deny the scorch of summer
as cool water douses fire, so too, shade douses heat
Watching trees in my pleasant reverie I observe how they
help break the carpeted land, bringing about a certain diversity in moving tranquility and rustling of their songs
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 7:20 AM UTC