We left Cambria in a dust of early morning fog,
just like we left all other places before, and we drove
Back to Santa Fe, to our apartment,
Where we had birthday parties and where we last saw
Our pet. Dad had the machinery to pry open the locked
Window, and we crawled in. I began setting up the house
Hold, where we were to restart our lives.
Meanwhile, someone called the police
And the property manager was notified.
This is not your house,
Anymore, they magaphoned, and if you want to rebuild
Please pay back rent and your new
rent plus deposit. Back in those days, it was less socially
acceptable to be evicted
Or thrown on the streets, and the fact
That I was a 11-year old soul
Helped, although I was old
Enough to be considered an advocate of evil.
Somehow, we made it work, and although we lived
In a car for years after that, this was a time
of premature dignity and refuge and puff paint blouses.
I know the feeling of being
guilty more than I know what home
is or how guiltiness could be consolidated
Into a frayed doormat dug out of someone else's trashBefore Dumpster Diving was sacred and cool.
All rights reserved.
Looking back to that magical time.