She awakes to the rumble of thunder and rain
coming down the hall and through the kitchen
from a rattling glass in the window pane
that needs repair. She wastes no time bitchin'
as she caulks in the downpour and doesn't wallow.
She jumps in the shower (poem to follow).
The metro is crowded and all cars are packed,
as she tries to hang on and she finds she's surrounded
by a hungry hoodlum; she is under attack,
so she knees to the balls and leaves him dumbfounded.
The pain's so intense that it leaves his face sallow.
She exits the metro (poem to follow).
Casa Quijote is the venue of choice
where poets converge for the open mic;
they pass the hat, discover their voices,
record for their agents and things of the like.
Her throat is so dry that she hardly can swallow;
she steps on the stage (poem to follow).
The feral dog's howling reached her in bed
and permeated every fiber and bone
of her naked body and her pounding head,
amplifying the reality of being alone.
With emptiness so deep that her insides are hollow,
she puts pen to paper (poem to follow).
They met at a spiritual revival crossroads;
he was going down, she was barely going.
When they moved in together, it lightened their loads
economically, but he stopped her from growing.
She wondered how anyone could be so shallow.
She kicked him out (poem to follow).
A camera discreetly hangs in front of her,
as she patiently sits in the hotel lobby
to catch the right frames so they don't end up blurred,
for this is professional, and not just a hobby.
“Over here, darling,” the lover calls low.
She snaps the picture (poem to follow).
The local college had a recruitment fair;
she enrolled in Poetry and Creative Writing
for personal edification, a rare
pleasure in her line of work, but inviting.
It's an honor to walk these halls we hallow,
She steps in the classroom (poem to follow).
Moments of reverie mixed with nicotine,
seated in window three floors over street.
In here she feels safe, but the City is mean,
filled with obstacles just ripe for defeat.
It melts in her mouth, the chocolate and mallow;
she takes another hit (poem to follow).
The clicking is awkward and does not cease
as the doorknob turns open on its own.
She reaches in her purse and grabs her piece
to take on whomever as she has been shown.
It's him or me; I'm no victim, hell no!
She pulls the trigger... (poem to follow).
Stray Rescue calls him a bull terrier mix;
he is only a puppy but fully house trained.
They gave him his shots and they say he is fixed,
and his guard dog instinct is something ingrained.
He seems like a kind and compassionate fellow.
She names him Horace (poem to follow).
A flower shop owner suspiciously waits
for her beautiful beau to show up at two-thirty.
They go to the back to arrange their two fates
by exchanging the green for doing the dirty.
She hopes that his seed helps the flowers to grow.
She gets the shot (poem to follow).
“I am the owner of Casa Quijote,
and you are looking most extraordinary tonight.
Please, call me Juan,” he kisses her hand softly.
She melts inside and beams outward delight.
Her heart skips a beat when he first says hello.
“My name is Selena.” (Poem to follow.)