WANDA
For a while now I've been trying to write a Serial Novel about my building. Peter said maybe it's a (long long) poem. Here's what happened yesterday.
Wanda was here when I moved in the seventies she was an Old Lady maybe younger than I am NOW thin was her middle name puff of never moving white hair high high heels she worked on 34th Street in an Office went shopping every Saturday and Sunday she did her laundry got even thinner her heels remained high we would talk in the laundry room that is Wanda would mention weather usually not Good she didn't like summer or winter lived in a studio no visitors the super never went inside one day a month ago Wanda asked me to help her into a car service to go to her hair dresser the next week she fell in her room died a few days later. The super came to tell me yesterday that Wanda she didn't have a telephone landline or cell Wanda left six million dollars. No one knows where the money came from where it will go now.