Choose any metaphor:
cats curled on a couch...
keep those fires burning...
where the heart
where the family
where the hearth
where the friends
among the bookshelves
across the kitchen table
make yourself at...
Conjugate the concept:
sublet, rent, own
apartment, coop, condominium
my house, your house, our home
In this rootless age of ruthless relocations
and surreal economic recovery:
the ubiquitous machines really answer—
"I'm not at home now, but if you leave your name..."
I saw signs on the expressway near Boston's Charles River
and at Linden's train station telling commuters—
"If you lived here, you'd be home now."
A message well meant for mid-life manics with
spinning wheels
and threads of ideals
gears in motion
teeth fitting loosely
emotions constantly hung
call-waiting on another line.
Avoiding love,
looking for comfort.
Seeking solo serenity,
living loneliness.
Working, wanting, waiting
for who?
for what?
for when?
That voice you are hearing
It's me balancing on a wire
Parasol in hand
Arms open
Chanting a nightingale's hymn:
"If you lived here, you'd be home now."
"If you lived here, you'd be home now."