“Selective Maintenance”

The scaffolding stayed up
long after the workers stopped coming.
Paint chips collected like old promises
in the cracks no one claimed responsibility for.

(they say it’s unsafe
but only for some)

Hallways dimmed by policy
light bulbs never replaced —
one floor at a time
became too inconvenient to inspect.

Vacant units appear in clusters
like bruises
spreading across the map.

“Uninhabitable,”
they write,
in bold type and disappearing ink.

(the rent was too high
until it wasn’t
until no one you knew could reach it)

Mailboxes sealed.
Elevators whisper a different name
on their way down.

There is no memo about removal,
just an absence —
of noise,
of shoes outside the door,
of stories in the stairwell.

(the lights stay on
but not for you)

A new listing appears
with curated ivy and imported stone.
The rent floats in rare air
untroubled by living wages.

They'll say it’s revitalization,
a revival.
A clean slate —
but only certain hands
are allowed to write the next chapter.

(you were always temporary
they just hadn’t told you yet)

TsL. 25
#mypoems