she did not want anyone
to understand her

she did not want the world
to understand her

she did not want the sky nor the ground
to understand her

she just wanted
   to understand
               herself.

It's been a long time
but the ink scrawls & lines all fall into place

an expressionist
glimpse into urban dreams

somewhere in the past
a typewriter sounds

someone is writing
a masterpiece

which will never
be published

in a land
soon to be bombs & flame

meanwhile my lines
make out the city of my dreams

What should be now
Was here last week
When it's in the bank today
The offer's nowhere to be seen
When I don't have it I need it
When it's here, the need is gone

Still somewhere in the confusion
My dyslexic life goes on
Here's a good example,
Take a read why don't you
Peak into my life's lessons
Desperation sure as truth:

He told me his thoughts
He told me his dreams
He made me feel
Like I was the queen
I said "please be there for me
for what I must go through"
He said "I'm sorry
it's just bad timing,
I chose her over you "

I begin the day buying yogurt in a small
favorite grocery store. The clerk
a man of few pretenses was making jokes
about his wife, how they fight in bed.
Discovering the better stores in the community.
In a given day, isolated from friends,
I speak to few people. An old woman
asks me for directions to the post office
or I speak to a stranger over the phone about night work.

At home my every thought comes to the counterpoint of
      a dream:
a girl I love surprises me by knocking on the window.
I ply my arts all day alone.
After this silence like being hidden away in the woods
in a cabin, bored
but owing no member of society an explanation,
invitation to a party. A flow of wine and devilish drugs
and quickly I am making a fool of myself.

My new friends like me
but when they think about me at all,
they wonder.
                        Wandering home
through the midnight air, alone again,
free, admiring
the ghostly houses of my new neighbors
by new moonlight.