it is raining outside my window.
i have nothing on but boxers.
i'm lying on my futon matress, which is lying on the floor.
the fan is blowing the cool air, from the air conditioned room next to mine, into mine.
no one is coming to visit.
no one will tell me they will visit.
no one will lie and say they will visit.
no one.
i saw an arrest and a firing at work today.



the dream is dead for me.


and i just looked at her photos. and i smiled. a real one this time. listening to bob dylan. like a rolling stone. indeed, bobby, indeed.