Crime Scene

I left a window open
all day, but no one came
to steal my laptop or my books,
my passport or my name.

Nothing has moved. Nothing has changed,
the flat looks just the same
as when I walked out this morning –
no tampering with the shame

of my unmade bed, my un-ironed shirts,
the plate-piled kitchen sink,
your farewell letter on my desk
listing my faults. I think

when I go to work tomorrow
I’ll play a bolder game –
take the front door off its hinges.
Fuck the insurance claim.

First published in ‘The Haiku Quarterly’.