Got here in a taxi, my nerves can’t take the train. Truck won’t start and my left leg’s lame.
Brought wood for your fireplace, up four flights of stairs. Watch you in the mirror as you comb your hair.
Magdeline, Magdeline, Magdeline. I’ll fix your crimes.
Left a book of poems by Phillip Larkin in my truck bed. It’s raining like a mother and the words all bled.
Brought the nails you needed, and extra lubricant. I hate to be reminded how you pay my rent.
Magdeline. I’ll fix your crimes.
I brought the nails we needed, for your sweet feet and hands. I might get sick but a plan’s a plan.
Magdeline. I’ll fix your crimes. Just this time.