Eating Chicken

He stood there
Eating chicken over the kitchen sink
He was a second-rate man
Draped by his own sagging flesh
The master of a tired domain
And the peculiar owner
Of a singular solitude
A wretched slave to ambivalence
Looking solemnly through
His aluminum framed window
Watching his neighbor wash dishes
She’s not young, but middle aged
Handsome in a classic way
He imagined that she was probably

As lonely as he was
And that the only warmth she ever got
Was from her soapy dishes

© Christopher Raine