Indisputable
It’s bad in here
Cramped in one room the size of a walk-in closet with all my stuff
My computer screen the main light
The lone window smeared over with black paint peeling
Some streetlight peeping a peppering of glows through the holes
Mattress on the floor taking up the majority of walking space
All my clothes piled on each side of my bed like banks on a river
A bottle of water and two cans of tomato soup along the wall
Two coupons for hamburgers at the corner fast-food joint
No miniature refrigerator
No Styrofoam ice chest
No bicycle
But
My ex-wife sent a letter
Said she didn’t hate me as much anymore
I still keep a picture of her in my wallet
Starting a new part-time job tomorrow
Maybe the boss won’t be a back-stabbing weasel
I’ll get on the internet Saturday in the library
I’ll send this poem to some poetry site and hopefully they’ll post it
Maybe someone will read it and identify with me
Have a little chuckle and dream of how things use to be.
Stephen Jarrell Williams loves to write in the middle of the night with a grin and a grimace and flame in his heart. He is the editor of Dead Snakes at deadsnakes.blogspot.com
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