Canned Tomatoes

I walk slowly to the store
You don’t live here anymore
You used to live round the corner
(Cigarettes and alcohol)

Last week I turned twenty four
You don’t call me anymore
We used to speak every morning
I was sleeping on the floor

I still get the mail for
You I leave it at the door
Every letter seems a warning
Pay your rego by the fourth

Monday morning laundry or
Coffee on the garden wall
You’re good cos you’re never boring
You should probably call me more