Intruder. (Poems).(Poem)

 
   He broke in, picking the lock, or having stolen 
   a key, and he knew the code to disarm the alarm, 
 
   some homeless guy, a crazy street-person, harmless 
   you'd think, but you're wrong: he likes it here, and he stays. 
 
   He rummages through my closets and dresser drawers 
   and tries on my clothing, which happens, of course, to fit him. 
 
   He runs my comb through his hair. He uses my toothbrush. 
   He lies down on my side of the bed for a nap. 
 
   He has settled in. In the mornings, he sits at my place 
   and has his coffee and toast, reading my paper. 
 
   He borrows my car and drives to meet my classes; 
   during my office hours he meets with my students. 
 
   We don't look at all ...