*****

Recorded Reading (3:52): https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/ddo993lbaj07nu9x64p2z/Sorry-for-You.mp3?rlkey=tewu6mty15gwzipfnq19bqjc0&dl=0

*****

Three years ago this poet accepted the use of a spare bedroom in the home of the old family friend who ~ did she but know it ~ had been profiling her for years prior to having made her homeless himself.

During the six weeks that she was there, she paid a full half of his trailer space rent, and brought both gifts and food beyond her own total self-supply to the household.

Not knowing what she didn’t know then, the mean little household tricks he played on her daily greatly confused her.

Knowing what she does now, after being followed by that old family friend over 10,000 miles of true targeted hell, and having seen firsthand his absolutely enormous depredations coast-to-coast, it doesn’t confuse her so much.

It terrifies her.

This poem was written at the end of the six weeks of “shelter,” when things got so weird that she chose to move to the woods and put her belongings in storage.

She left behind hundreds of dollars worth of food, all the gifts she’d brought, and a polite note of thanks.

Her outstanding rental contribution was not returned.

*****

Sorry for You

You’ll have to stop the pranks and tricks
One way or the other
Either now, before I go,
Or afterward, my brother

Either voluntarily
With timeliness and grace
Or at a date so late you never
Will recover face

And yes, they all constructed are
To very paltry seem
And yes, you will present me
As cannot tell real from a dream

I want to say, my brother
At what you seem to have to do
It’s sorry, sorry, sorry
So sorry that I feel for you

Whatever the degree
Of suffering which I will see
Behind your non-decision which
Crushes remaining hope for me

I see a suffering in you
These pranks cannot abate
Perhaps I’ll die — but you’d live on
A sad minion to hate

I feel the need to tell you
This homey doesn’t do that dance
“I hurt you now, you hurt me then”
There’s not the slightest chance

If I were willing your convenient
Hated bitch hag mom become
There’ve been many hateful homes
I could have had where I come from

Folks don’t change, I’ve heard it said
But this we also know —
Given time and tolerance
They do sometimes grow

Think before you blindly go
Where you have gone before
Of messages of my uncoolness
You need issue but one more

Then even I will get the message,
Who believed your word
Of indefinite welcome
Previously heard,

Understanding — sorry
That I’ve picked it up so late —
You never wanted me to love
But either to fuck or to hate

Anybody else, I’m sure
By now would have it figured out,
The sexual equation
Seems this was really all about

But that’s just me — I still believe
In wine, romance and Cupid
You will enthusiastically
Paint me up as stupid

To all the new acquaintances
I will leave here behind me
Even more disrespectfully
Than you did in front of me

You’ll tell the new tale you’ll concoct
Of your endless domestic woe:
Another “user female”
Who “couldn’t tell ‘twas time to go”

*****

Until removal of the stalker/targeter/vandal/arsonist following her allows her to approach any landlord ~ even for a private parking space ~ and to begin once again to create professional connections and to rebuild her life, this poet presently lives homeless and at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level ~ still working to contribute to her society, however, seven days a week.

Arts patrons may visit http://www.UgiftABLE.com , using code #72D-31S. It does take several days for the poet to be notified of your patronage.

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