My neighbor left his Boxster
Behind when he went today,
Or yesterday, or this week.
We don't know. He didn't say
'I'm leaving. Goodbye.' Nothing.
Did he struggle? Or just...stop.
I couldn't say. But I saw
His door broken by the cop.
Later, they brought out a corpse.
I wondered if he'd been sore
Or ill. He had lived alone,
Like me. The fix for his door
Is still on his back walkway
Where it's been for six months now.
It never made a window
Like he said he planned, somehow,
The very last time we spoke.
People said he was an ass.
But he left his Porsche behind
Along with the plexiglass.