Walking in someone else’s shoes is hard work
It’s also difficult to remember to bring your own socks
Because
Wearing someone else’s shoes and no socks would be awful.
The day is ending
The sky is collapsing
And I’m looking into the sunset from the top of this hill.
I don’t really see anything
I’m a little homesick.

Flying is one of those things that would be awesome to try just once.
Sitting at a computer desk, he pulled paper carefully out of a slick metal drawer
And began a picture.
He used Sharpies
And colored it in with pencils and charcoal.
He sketched a moon that was looking to its left
Seeing what was happening on its right
The middle of the moon was dark
But there was hope for light on top.

Home.
Home is one of those places you can’t ever really forget about it.
Home is always stuck in your clothes, stuck in your throat
It is responsible for my shortness of breath sometimes.
There’s a band that talks about having wood and nails and putting hate out of its factory
What a sad job
When all you were trying to do
Was get enough money to head home.

When the days are long, the sky seems to fall
Collapse
When the day ends
Inverted.
One day I will spend an entire backwards
Sending the world to spin on its dry axis
They will say I am up to no good.

He called to her
From where he sat at his desk
But he didn’t say anything when she answered
He wanted to know where she had been
But the words were stuck deep in his throat.
Like home.

LBR