THE PLACE I CALLED HOME (A POEM)

Abstract

The act of thinking about life provokes memories too arduous to peg down I have never known a man who thought home was a prison, a place out of place I have heard it said by fanatic housekeepers, who spend their time dusting other people’s lives What a noise for something, a place one feels safe or trapped I do not know if it is true; I’m cunningly conjecturing.