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This writing was accepted for publication
in the 84 page perfect-bound issue of
cc&d (v232) (the May 2012 Issue



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No Shoeboxes Allowed

Don Hargraves

Just so you know, I got booted out a month ago.
No warning, no thought –
went to work, put in my ten hours, got home
in time to see the locksmith driving away
and a policeman waiting for me, saying
“get your stuff out, you’ve been kicked out.”
So I got my computer, my iPod, my notebooks and my poems
(the important stuff, or at least the stuff that can’t be replaced cheaply)
and moved myself to a motel room up the street.
A few days later I found a furnished one bedroom apartment nearby
and moved in.

I looked at the rules, found this odd gem in the mix:
“No Shoeboxes shall be allowed on the premises.”

I asked the management, their representative said
“There’s been drug dealing here in the past, shoe boxes were used to store the stuff.”
I asked one of the residents, he said
“It’s a class thing, we’re in the poor section and can only afford poor boy shoes.”
Another person overheard us talking and said this:
“I saw someone trying to toss a shoebox, saw him taken away by cops that night.”

A couple days later I took a look in my closet,
saw a closed shoebox sitting there. Not sure if it was there before,
but I looked inside and saw something I didn’t want to see in there.
Wasn’t a camera (thank god) nor was it Child Porn (at least what I saw)
but what I saw there was still nothing I wanted to mess with,
so I closed the box carefully and made sure it was like it was
before I opened it up.

I’m making plans to move elsewhere as we speak.
Not only that, but I’m keeping things quiet;
when I move I want it quick – no muss, no fuss, no warning
as I get the feeling that’s the only way I’ll be able to escape.



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