Day 29: Lobject’s Hometown

Monica didn’t care what time we left, even if my gin and tonic hangover put us behind schedule. The last few bucks we had were taking us home for the weekend where laundry would be cleaned and the empty cooler in the backseat would get packed with meats, veggies, and chicken salad that 50% of the time we finished on the drive back to college.

I never slept in the passenger seat, but I wanted to as soon as the sun disappeared. I picked songs. We talked and smoked and rarely stopped. We made it in four hours once. That silver Altima took us to the Charlotte skyline more time than I could count. It was the best part of the trip. We knew we’d see the lights curving onto 485. They always glowed and waved welcome home.

Day 19: Hometown

My hometown is the same as my

Mother’s whose own mother was born only

Fifteen miles south, slowly growing north.

Her favorite story, she whispered with a girlish

Smile as we crossed that bridge over Grimesland: 

When I was a girl, I burnt down those woods

Over there.

My hometown is the same as my

Father’s, where he moved from dirt and

Disrespect across town - away - to a family 

He could call his own.  Each time he looked -

at us, at home - his eyes gleamed

Bright and blue.

My hometown is the same as my

Sister’s, who escaped briefly to that college

Town on a hill two hours west,

Only returning to a small headstone

In the middle of the green graveyard –

Beside my father’s, below grandmother’s in the center

Of my hometown.

My hometown is the same as my six-year old

Son’s, born in the same hospital as me,

His eyes wide open and blue.  His favorite story

Is of my mom walking into the nursery

His first day on Earth. As she bent closer

To whisper love and adoration, his newborn hand

Responded, wrapping around her pointer finger

At the hospital in our hometown.

Day 12: Dobject's Hometown

I live via Asheville: a Shiva-ville,

a live villa she has.
She sails all ails à sea.

Else, she shall shave ill all

vile isle ill vessels:

Shiva valves evil ash-veils,

she shiv-halves all vassals live,

evils all vile villas—

save A-ville; Ale Isle,

Shiva-ville, a shave's save.

Day 11: Pobject's Hometown

the ball at the base of the BANG! I drew
in the margin of the page
                              (the book is about
looks like a spinning unicycle tire

but from here to home is far too far
to ride by unicycle
                                                            (from the hillcrest downtown

or to ride between the raindrops
without getting wet

where do I go when I am bound for home?
                              redesigning college curricula)
I cannot say:
I have no neat Cartesian plane,
no handy ordinate or abscissa,
no place to plant a perfect pin,

for my once-sharp axes have melted
into a warm poetical mist
                                                            lies as openly as a lover’s arms.)