My Only Home [sonnet]

Posted on Updated on


“So where’s your home?” the man said, now perplexed.
“It’s where I hang my hat”, was my reply.
“There’s no place which you own?” now looking vexed.
I saw his face go strange, then he said “Why?”

No answer could I give him to that word.
It’s now my life to dangle on this rope.
To many, such a life may seem absurd,
as if I’d lost all joy and had no hope.

Yet that could not be further from the truth;
I’m happy now each moment every day.
I’m still an ancient hippie in his youth
and view all atoms as a cabaret!

(My only home’s the river or the sea
or in a vulva’s moistwarm artistry).

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s