Sickness of Home

Four oh four
is seven oh four
is four oh four and the man,
bared
and rising from the mud,
smokes, chuckles with a western
drizzle's soft sadness
while considering the irony. Cut off -
disconnected and disillusioned -
being here, could only think
of being there.

Going
there,
quickly began thinking
only of where
he was not, not
was.

Now, here -
not there -
all he does is think
of there - though not
permitted - he thinks not
just of there, but
of you; wishes
he could wish
you all the good wishes
one wishes
at this time
of year.

Here - no matter where
here is -
wishing
to be there, there
not mattering
so long as not
to be where
here, or there,
is.

Softly,
sadly, the golem
chuckles in the rain - awake
for the clock not here,
there - and four oh four
is seven oh four
is four oh four and the man,
bared
and rising
from the mud, smokes
realizing
home sickness will exist
no matter
where
home is

Not.

_{( For A Friend ::Thursday, December 23, 2010 @ 06:20 )}