Elise, my personal stalker

my personal stalker,

an old

woman

up north, won't leave me

alone.

she has countless

phones,

pretends to be someone

else.

someone i've never known.

i tell her to go away,

but she plots

and plans

more ways to contact

me.

by text,

or letter, or telegram.

she's in the bushes at

night,

she's in a darkened car

with

dimmed headlights,

she reads

and examines every word

i write.

she's harmless in her

crazy ways,

harassment light,

but still i check the door

twice

to see that it's locked

before i go 

up the stairs to dreamland.