I'm not sure I'll ever have a home
in the way I imagined I would

maple trees and softball games
silverware and a chess board
and a leather chair that remembers me

I will always be an unsteady train
on tracks that diverge and separate
where will I work and where will I go
I will forever ask out the window

today the ground is too concrete for roots
only money buys you soil
and that too will **** you
slowly, slowly.