You could all look like that.
She navigates through an overstock of apple butter
and turnip greens in the basement.
A broken water heater sits rusted, carrying sounds
from upstairs.
She opens the breaker and listens.
She turns, walks up the stairs and sets
the jars on the counter.
She stares at the fridge; it always catches
her eye, the same photo:
1994, Hillsboro - great aunt Della, Robert, Camilla, Seth
and two bug-eyed cousins by marriage not
worth remembering.
The one on the far right stares at her through a unibrow.
Cold, podunked and a little above water.

She knocks on his door.
Squigs and boosh; sweeping Matterhorn wind
that flew into a meter.
He adjusts the knobs.
Coos into a compressor mic.
"Keep it down in here."
You could all look like that.
You could look out the window, past the opposite yard,
and trace a line to...Putnam county?
That muddy dirtbike track?
"What are you calling this one?"
She laughs.
"Of course you are," she says as
she leaves. "You gotta be shitting me..."

She sticks a spoon into the apple butter
and takes a bite.
She stares out the window, across the street
to the law firm, as a middle-aged man in an
awful grey and teal cross-hatched style polo grasps
coffee cup by his teeth to adjust his Blutooth
and stretch his keys from his belt to the lock.
"The building used to be a taxidermist."
A little less Monica Vitti,
a little more Milton Berle.
You could all look like that.
Poor advice.
the first stanza or whatever is a little too expository. she does this, she does that, etc. the enjambment is also surprisingly weird in some places which is something i never even consider when reading you but yeah. 'worth mentioning' as its own line particularly stands out. maybe that's intentional. personal nitpick, but podunked is obnoxiously colloquial. anyway, you're the best story-teller here without a doubt so the rest is excellent. good read.
Thanks. This piece, really was just an amalgamation of thoughts at the time - Antinioni's film Rec Desert, the redundancy of the lyrics in "Milk It" by Nirvana, my new mini Korg synth, the 12 girls I know who are married and younger than me and Paulie Walnuts from The Sopranos. I don't think this represents any of those thoughts...
Poor advice.
'the first stanza or whatever is a little too expository' agree with that in the middle of the stanza.
could use a little different pacing there. "she walks back up the stairs" instead of "she turns[half stop] walks up the stairs" for example. the turn isnt doing enough to need that. you could build her character (and consequently his) here with a little work and thats the main thing that isn't up to your best standards here.
still well written and enjoyable. just doesn't stand alone as well as some of your other short work.

will be reading your recent longer one soon.
Anatomy Anatomy
Whale Blue Review

Park that car
Drop that phone
Sleep on the floor
Dream about me