Nothing beats

an empty house—

I can hear the ticking clock…

I love to play the piano

and discover the composers of the past.

I get farther away from who I am

Rushing from one party to another

makes no sense at all.

All the costumes are meaningless.

After an orgasm, there is peace.

Before-hand, we are just animals in a circus, with strange appetites, and the soul cannot be expressed.

Each new discovery

changes me.

I am rarely changed

by someone on the street.

A perfect life

would be

spending more time

in my home library.

In search of regrets?

Utter foolishness.

I have spent my time reading books


Walden is a pond I visit every evening.

The ocean is an eternity

Why want what other have?

It’s all rust and dust—

a comic strip we read, like Dilbert.


reduces our pain,

and the frightening absurdity.

My friend in Florida is angry

about the happy people with happy lives with happy wives.

He thinks they’re all ugly,

and maybe they are,

but he’s not happy.

Poetry doesn’t accomplish anything

So, why do it?

Because it feels good to stretch the soul and make it run

Sometimes, it’s tired

and mired in bad things

but it can still escape into the sunshine of the sublime

and play in fields full of daisies,

from time to time.

One thought on “Homebody

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