like a target

SoFla Hometown Blues

Sometimes you feel like a target
Sometimes the memories clamp like straight jacket confines
Sometimes you have to visit family
Sometimes it feels like home again
Sometimes you’d rather be anywhere else in this bent and melting world
Sometimes you have to leave again
Sometimes, nearly always now, you prefer your new home
Sometimes the old hometown is a millstone dragging you down to the bottom of Biscayne Bay
And you’re happy to leave it again, and again, and again

And you’re on the road again.

What I’m Reading:

“I am not yet 40, and in my lifetime, climate change has gone from something that we thought would happen in the future to something happening now to something accelerating at such a surprising pace that it makes most of our feeble attempts to reckon with it outdated before they even get underway. This great acceleration has now reached all the way to Antarctica.”

—Elizabeth Rush / “What Antarctica’s Disintegration Asks of Us”

About istsfor manity

i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....
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