114.365 - once on an angry afternoon

once a mad woman
prowled afternoons
looking for a way out
an escape
an exit
prowled parts of the city she could reach
in one day’s walking
prowled and always found her way home
and one day stood before her house
crying to be there again
and not outside
wherever outside is
whatever outside looks like
she walked down to the gas station
bought another pack of cigarettes
wandered back home and smoked them
sitting on her bit of porch
thinking of the angry poems she’d write
if she wrote poems
thinking of the razor blades
she’d fashion her lines into
the lethal eyedropper her last words would be
the sound of her gun cocking opening the poem
she had a shouting match with her imagination
and stormed inside
slamming the door behind her
so hard one of the window panes broke
she went to her refrigerator and stared
waiting for it to invent something new
then closed the door and went to bed unfilled
she closed her eyes and dreamed
and dreamed
and now you tell me
this wasn’t once upon a time
this wasn’t history
this is now
and now
and now