every morning i hear her outside talking on the phone as her little dog sniffs and pisses on everything

she complains endlessly about how all men are pigs and only are after one thing

she moved in three months ago above me

the little dog runs back and forth, nails skipping and scraping across the hardwood floors

at night as i lay in bed staring at the floor of her bedroom that has delusions of being my bedroom ceiling i hear the rhythmic sound of springs

then every morning she claims men only want one thing

her dog squats and stares through the blinds at me while it shits

she won’t bother to pick that up and soon huge clouds of flies will circle it and buzz about

then she’ll go back upstairs and that little monster will run back and forth while she prepared herself to give away the only thing she thinks men want

the soft symphony of her moans and coils compressing filling my empty room, punctuated by the sounds of the dog running and flies buzzing outside

maybe tomorrow i’ll go sit outside and hand her a plastic baggie to pick up the shit and i can be just another man wanting something from her so she can complain on the phone

but the flies get fed and the dog gets exercise and she is filling that need with the only thing that gets her through the day

i’ll just sit here and drink coffee instead, some men only want one thing it’s true, others just want to sit back and watch the whole thing burn to the ground

i’d be content to see her find the one she’s looking for and pick up the shit from the yard