I found the perfect book.
It was old, with tanned pages.
The cover was deep green with gold embossed print and pattern.
It was not three dollars.
It was old, but it was not three dollars.
It was thirty dollars.
The check out lady told me so.
It was the perfect book.
I left it at the check out counter.
Instead, I bought only one book.
I bought someone else’s poetry.
I like it very much.
There were four shelves of poetry.
There was one shelf of journals and chapbooks.
I bought a chapbook for two dollars and ninety nine cents.
The check out lady gave me a penny back.
I bought someone else’s poetry today.
It was hot.
I was sweaty.
I took the number twelve bus home.
I cried on the number twelve bus.
There were strangers on the bus.
I cried on the number twelve bus.
I scrubbed the floors while crying in my old apartment.
I spent a lot of time crying, so I decided I’d better get some work done, if I was going to cry so much.
I put a razor to my arm.
I’d done this many times.
I smeared my blood on my room mate’s mirror.
Later the next day, I went to talk to the Dean of Student’s.
She said I was more articulate than the graduate students.
She told me to change dorms and not cause trouble, and she would allow me to stay.
I left the university.
His name was Bill Cox.
He started calling me “Brently” in the second week.
I only stayed at the hospital two weeks the second time.
Bill Cox drove the motor home off the 10 freeway.
Bill Cox meant to kill himself.
His wife came every day to visit.
Bill Cox got in a fight with Chari Jones.
Chari Jones was from Chicago.
She told us to call her Chicago.
She ate the most.
She threw chairs at the nurses.
One night, she screamed after me, “Where’s that little bitch!?”
I locked myself in the conference room.
The nurse, Helen, checked the conference room.
The conference room was a perfect square with four chairs, an end table, and a phone on the wall.
Helen did not see me with my face in my knees.
I was crying, then, too.
Helen found me later.
I did not talk.
She offered me Clonazepam.
I refused.
Bill Cox was still there when I left.
He was avoiding felony charges.
I had a nightmare that my father broke my little brother’s bones.
I had a nightmare that my father stabbed me, and in the dream I could not scream.
There are more green trees here than anywhere else I’ve lived.
I go to the river often.
I have no job.
Last night I did not sleep very much.
I called my friends.
James did not answer.
Robert did not answer.
I put my phone in my backpack.
A black man in a red shirt screamed obscenities on Fifth Avenue.
I am out of milk.
I went straight home.
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