Rent
I brought the rent home
after a day of work in the heat.
The homeowner was gone.
His uncle who he took in
was yelling
I went away.
Clothes cluttered
the living room floor.
Sometimes I had to admit
to myself I felt this
was not a home to me.
Last night I searched
my laptop for images
of women once loved
and allowed my mind
to wander.
a wanderer
maybe that was who
I was meant to be
The moon looked in
the window while
the television in the living
room played the same thing.
Another housemate slept on the couch.
A manager asked if I could
come in on a day off.
I told him no to protect
my time and allow myself
to drive around and write.
He called it a hobby—
never read the books I wrote.
My books were kept on a shelf
above the dresser in my bedroom.
In my dreams another was born.
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