assorted chalk

two robberies in one night is too much.

i just got back and my mother told me she sold all my literature novels and study texts. everything.

everything i have set aside carefully for keeps for years and days beyond.

this means metaphysical poets, translations and mockingbird.

i kept telling myself 'no no she wont throw those away, she should know. she wont. she cant.'

i ran to my cupboard and lost it.

there was a plan to read translations again soon. i dont recall ever feeling so mad and sad in the last five years.

only the woman warrior was spared. but it really doesnt make things better.

i am mad because there were no questions asked.

i am mad because i know this is just a start.

i know i laughed about throwing out the pillow.

but its really not funny anymore because things are going to start disappearing.

i really dont know where to start fearing and protecting. every item kept is prized.

i am too mad for any more tears. twelve bucks for a bag of "your rubbish poetry books".

 i am mad and i am buying everything back tomorrow even if it means going door to door.