Writers write
Haven't been a writer lately; good, bad or indifferent
These are the first words from my new home
I love it here, never want to leave
Maybe I'm a little bit of a pessimist today
Creativity is all around me now
Art and music and history are here
I feel them every time I look out the window
And see the 101 Freeway
The shadow of the peacock
A squirrel chasing another squirrel
Through the trees behind the pool
Outside the dining room
Hummingbirds humming in the same trees
The cat is happy chasing imaginary things from room to room
If my lover hadn't shown me his worst self
At that particular moment
Just after Christmas, just before the end of the year
And left me with nothing but contempt
If the plumbing hadn't backed up into my bathtub
the landlord hadn't been his best asshole self
At that particular moment
I would not have looked on Craig's list
Would not have seen the pictures
Falling in love with and idea, a place
A chance for me to be a writer writing again
So I thank you both, the lover and the landlord
For being who you are and who you will be
And freeing me form suburbia
From great sex
(That should have been a clue
It wasn't very good the first time around)
And nothing else
And I wish you both all that you deserve
