house
uow i remember the first time i was ever in this house it was thanksgiving 1996 we sat at the old kitchen table eating corn muffins and sipping elderberry nectar while my brothers picked apples in the orchard the lady who used to live here sat across from me looking at me she told me that i reminded her of the virgin mary and mona lisa mixed together and then she asked about my rising sign and proceeded to do my chart for me with my mother on the computer that is no longer there in the room that has been changed and is now my parent's space. 040824
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uow and i remember when i was asked to move here i had just finished planting the corn and putting up the ceiling and walls in my own little cabin and i was about to put the windows and floor in when the man who is now my landlord drove in and said he wanted my family to move and live here.
so then i took down the ceiling and wall boards and i sighed at the loss of my cabin but i knew i couldn't stay there for much longer anyway.
and i was glad i had a new place to go to.
this new home now old.
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uow the man who built the house came by one day after i was wondering about the man who built the house.
and he seemed nice enough but disappointed by all the ruin
but hey you can only do so much i say to myself this place is thick with years of neglect it's so hard to even start to clear the wildness i say why would i want to anyway just let the weeds grow all over everything i'm too tired to work it all i give up this year i can't even get the beans picked all i can do is walk.
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birdmad i need only to pocket my cut of the proceeds to be done with the house i grew up in.

i give it another two years or so before the place i live now is a receding image in both a figurative and literal rear_view_mirror
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monee i'm looking for a home 050102
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kerry feels like a prison lately. i prowl around looking for things i can get rid of. i want to strip away all that's unnecessary, live as simply as possible. i find myself tempted to start giving away all my belongings, as though i'm preparing for death. but the yellow pompom chrysanthemums can stay, as can all the books and the excessive collection of coffee mugs and the innocent plants on the windowsills.
the houses in this city are long and cavernous, crammed together like teeth impossible to floss. there is no true privacy. there is nowhere to go where i could scream. it would feel good, to plug my ears and scream.
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