the day of disbelief has arrived on my doorstep

Carol has waited day in and
out of her rickety blue house slouching
on the corner of seventh and
laurel streets
beyond the reasoning
more than five years have passed by since katrina came to
visit the neighborhood
with little damage to rest the eyes on as she gazes catty corner and down

the road of thirteen years

if my husband were still alive

today was the day when i finally got my money to fix my house
i kept everything organized and in triplicate
filed away and of course i followed

all the rules and regulations and filled out all the countless useless forms
never leaving an empty box
i found an old wooden cigarette box upstairs tucked away strangely

protected from the waterlogged collection
but new forms reappear and there is no end in sight

the woman working at the collection assistance office is just the perfect fit
cold as a coconut snoball i tell her that fairly soon the money will be no use to me because my house will fall down out of sight
not a sympathetic bone in her stiff skinny straight-postured frame