Saturday, August 31, 2013

Unwritten: Good Fences

What must my neighbors think? I'm up all night and I sleep all day. I can only write with one pen, and I often leave my keys in the door. I am noisy and loud, and to make matters worse, I from New York. I listen to only one song on the radio over and over again. 

I take everything I own with me when I leave, and carry it back in when I get home. I am constantly tripping my own feet, and probably offend them with my politics, and I am not shy to say that President Bush looks like the Outbreak Monkey. 

When the Bureau ofTennCare rejected my application to work in the women's prison, I cam e to realize that the prisoners got a much better offer—it includes room and board! 

So no one wants to hire me. But they don't know me. And they don't care. After being assaulted in my own home several years ago, I noticed my neighbor witnessing the event through his bedroom window. 

When questioned by the police regarding his failure to act, he simply told them, "Well, as far as I'm concerned, good fences make good neighbors."

Well, fuck him! 

Do you know how scary it is to be alone in a strange city? Afraid to leave and, afraid to go home? To live in your car because it was the better option? 

To come home one day and find everything, and I mean everythmg you own gone? 

Your birth certificate, social security card, your grandmother's jewelry. 

Where would you stay? 

Would  know what to do? 

Would you ever go back? 

Would you ever feel safe again in your own home? 

Anywhere?

Who would you trust? 

Who could you trust?

You could trust me because that is who I am. 



and the rest is still unwritten 

August 31, 2013


 

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