A bent antenna
waves hello from the TV
and welcomes us in.

Grandmother’s doily,
too tired to move, rests on
the arm of the couch.

The lampshade’s askew.
Last night someone’s drinking cap,
it looks hungover.

The carpet’s dark stains
come from spilt chocolate milk
and coffee splashes.

The paneled room holds
many teenage memories
I rarely visit.

Content Warning

The poet decided this submission may have content that's not for everyone. If you'd like to see it anyway, please click the eyeball icon.