The Apartment

The Apartment

The stairs angled up the outside 
Of the building like those I climbed 
To the first apartment I lived in, 
After I got married the first time.
He was an anthropology major,
His girlfriend archaeology.
She wanted him to move in there with her, 
But it’s easy to see why he
Balked; at home he lived all the suburban 
Comforts: carpet, quiet plumbing, spacious, 
Fresh rooms his mommy kept tidy, plus his daddy’s
Computer to write term papers on.
A second story apartment in Old Town sucks:
Noisy neighbors, roaches (I saw a big one 
Race down the ragged arm 
Of the sofa and zoom 
Into a crack in the baseboard), 
Little closet space, no garage; 
Convenient walking distance to campus 
Hoists the rent to scandalous.
But while his girlfriend spent six weeks digging in Africa, 
We put it to use a couple of July afternoons. 
His fresh youth promised a good romp
As he bulged a yeasty readiness—but alas!
He lacked skill with his master tool, 
But still his succulent lips and skillful tongue
Put a bounce in the balls of my feet
As they mounted those stairs two at a time.