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"Writing is a solitary occupation. Family, friends, and society are the natural enemies of the writer. He must be alone, uninterrupted, and slightly savage if he is to sustain and complete an undertaking."

- Jessamyn West:

When I Had No Roof

Laura Austin Kuerzel

When I had no roof I made
A house of matchsticks, gumdrops, roofs of lambsbread and chairs of acorns.

When I had no roof I made a
Kitchen of green and yellow and baked cakes and made tea for
The friends I did not have.

When I had no roof I made a
Roof of tar paper and sticks
I made my bed of newspapers
And the rain came in to christen me in
My tears and shoes discarded.

When I had no roof I made
A world in the forest
Canopy from canopy and moss for my bed
I used the birdsong as alarm and
Woke to eyes staring.

When I had no roof
I made no friends, cried no tears and drank no wine.
I climbed no hills and swam in no oceans.
But I loved the love of the lost.

When I had no roof I made no bones about it.
I had no complaints and talked very little
I floated with generosity and left before bidden to.
I was grateful and dreamed of contentment.

When I had no roof I made a fine friend. I cared not of other’s position or place.
I had no gauntlet to throw down and had no envy as I had nothing to compare.

When I had no clothes I walked naked among friends.

When I had no mother I floated through doors
And windows, ghostly, with wings
And lost parts of me along the way.

When I had no conscience I took what I wanted
And left what I didn’t.
I cried for no one but myself and sang the song
Of the orphaned.

When I have no roof I will dance in the streets, gather food for strangers and make music without request.

In a world with no rooves, there would be civilian pilots in every neighborhood.

When I had no roof I dreamt of a home.
And now that I have a home I dream of love.
When I am at the end I will dream of life.
And then it will cease.

Once I had a roof. I slept and dreamed
Now that I have no roof, I live for no one, dream of nothing and languish.

When I had no roof
I made deals with strangers.
I ate out of dumpsters
and lived.

When I had no roof I made do with
Blue tarp and newspaper.
I went away every night
And returned each morning in fetal position.

When I had no roof I
Dined on buttercups and day lilies.
I wound strands of marsh grass around my limbs and
Reveled in the freedom of rooflessness.