A new foreign land

turns my gut into cherry stems.

“I hate this town.”

I’ve already set a countdown.


New equals uneasy.

Like a squirrel unsure about crossing the road,

A car oncoming. Will end up like a squashed toad.

I keep my head down.

“Be invisible”


I hate this place.

I hate the smells

Where’s the nearest hotel?

The buildings, old and worn

like days old popcorn.


I won’t love this place!

They can’t get me to love this place.

This small town life will never be my life.


My life is

highways and

Sleep in Sundays.

Sky scrapping buildings downtown,

and bright-lights day round.

The big city

With its bold graffiti

Be Someone!



is what I love.

It fits me like a glove.

The Love



of Home.

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