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Kevin Manning
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In Her View
She has stormy eyes.
She yawns wide.
Her vision's wet and blurry.
The scattered dry ground
is pinned down by expanding puddles.
Lonely nights her lamps light
and she swears this place looks like
a New England Village.
The gangs on both sides of the street
don't know about the others.
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When she hollers hip jokes
they throw signals at the others.
She used to have reason to smile.
Now she doesn't want to.
All of this from the view of a rented-out room.
She has flashbacks, flying fast, fast-forward.
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