Home

Home can be the Pennsylvania turnpike,
Indiana's early morning dew,
High up in the hills of California--
Home is just another word for you.

-- Billy Joel, "You're My Home"

--

I thought I was busy away.
Ambidextrous from words,
I bled and backed out
to rest in what I thought was you
in my morning.

You, at sunset,
have sprouted
limbs that limp you around
as you jump and hurdle...

and you never rest
in your sunset.
Instead you breathe
your frenzy on my neck
and from my shoulder
and my two hands
restless music on the keys
like maniac monkeys
wailing on accordians.

Accordingly, the sun
quickens and sweats
and the highways never shorten.
Rest, rest, rest!
There is none for those who seek it.

2008