what if the dozen homes I owned
now lie abandoned, ruins overrun
first by nameless faceless homeless
fruitatarians, later by termites & vines
eagles & scorpions, rattlers & bats
picture the splinters, cracks, the mold
the odor, mounds of feces & bones
gardens wild, asphalt guttered
fences sprung & toppled — end of
end of hegemonic gains
here in the thirteenth home I own
a rubbled ruin when I came, now safer
warmer, it’s I who abide, further
travel, spending, aims abandoned
energy overrun by footprints & age
yet every day I spring from my bed
listen & look around, brew my favorite
tea, explore inside, wander outside
listen & look, conjugate, mutate
interweave what’s here, what waits
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