City Clouds #1

City Clouds #1, snapped by cell phone in Youngstown, Ohio. I like to study the light and shadow play in cloud formations. Sometimes I think they look unreal, like if I painted them, someone would say, “oh those clouds don’t look real.”


Sleepless Night

I should be sleeping. Instead, I am doing things like hanging alarms and setting little booby traps so the next person who attempts to crawl in through a window will leave DNA.

I spend my nights moving things around and finding new places to put things. In the process, I am down-sizing by pulling things out to eliminate.

Logically, it would make more sense to be on high alert in broad daylight, as the intruder who entered my home was snooping around in here while I was out shopping last Wednesday. I know this person was in my bedroom, had gone thru my things, and found hidden things. The only thing possibly missing is a few pills with little to no street value. (Possibly, as the script was filled in July and I have been using an alternative herbal medication so I had not looked at the bottle since July.) Nothing was stolen, not even small cash & carry items (easy to hide and easy to pawn) so the list of suspects was short.

I would not have known that anyone was in here if they didn’t leave clues – two easy to dismiss, could have alternative explainations, but one clue was totally undeniable: hammers do NOT cock their selves.

So what were they doing in here? As far as I can tell, they were just hanging out, perhaps avoiding the person they live with, taking a reprieve from the cold, and/or being nibby and weird.

Hopefully, the person is now aware that their activities did not go unnoticed so best not to do it again.

Anyway, this is the story behind the “Violation” poem. I am 98% sure of who this person was so logically, I have nothing to fear. It is that 2% that is keeping me awake, the off-hand chance that maybe I am wrong. Or maybe it is the sense that it is time to clean house and move things around. I need to regain the privacy and purity of my home. It feels like they left invisible muddly paw prints everywhere, tainted all my stuff and I can’t see it but I have to clean it all up.

Sorry for writing all this… the poem could stand alone, needed no explaination. I am writing this because I am very tempted tonight to do what I usually, or rather USED to do when I am calm and collected on the outside and a little messed up about something inside. I keep telling myself “not an option” as I have to deal with this without that. Thank you for reading. Maybe I can go to sleep now.