UNTITLED

I

There she goes

The woman

In the blond wig

Walking;

And when it rains

A blue umbrella.

II

Always perfect

Her blond wig

The teacher's wig

Each hair in place

Shining and brittle

Just like her classroom

Her lessons, and each

Student's work

Properly recorded;

Then she retired,

She wanted to write

Yet her characters

Her plots so perfectly

Formed remain mute.

So she walks

Through the woods

Lost

In her perfect

Blond wig.

III

When night retreats

And day approaches

She walks

Through the woods--

As it yawns, stretches

Calls, sings, murmurs--

She hears nothing

Sees nothing

Knows nothing

But the beat

From her

Walkman.

IV

The woman

In the blond wig

Who walks

Wants to be a writer.

How can she?

With her brain

Skewered between

The earphones

Of a walkman

V

The woman

in the blond wig

no longer teaches

nor writes

but maintains

her garden

banishing all

imperfections

her garden

as perfect

as her wig.

VI

The woman

in the blond wig

used to feed the birds

no longer

the birds

were such messy eaters

spilling seed husks

on her neat garden.

VII

The woman

in the blond wig

mows her lawn

sitting straight

on her tractor-mower

her wig

her face

hidden under

an enormous

straw hat.

VIII

Every morning

she sweeps her deck

her wig

reflecting

the early morning

sun.

In the evening

she sits on her deck

in the glow

of evening light.

Alone.