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Sep 30
I don’t want to be here
I want to go back home.
I never will belong here.
My piece won’t fit this puzzle.

There is a little life here,
But it seems more like a death,
Stuck on a spinning carousel
With no brass ring to catch.

It feels just like a circus
Where everybody has a mask,
A 45 in their waistband,
And sawdust in their head.

I must step very carefully
In my egg-shell breaking boots;
I must never denigrate
This culture that’s absurd.

Guardrails all around my tongue
Hallelujah in my ears
To block what I don’t want to hear
Spouted out in endless rote

There is some sunburned beauty
To be found among these stones
But it comes at far too high a price
And I’m longing to go home.
ljm
I wrote this when we first moved here 6 years ago.  I didn't post it then.
So I'll post it now.
Written by
Lori Jones McCaffery  F/Laughlin, Nevada
(F/Laughlin, Nevada)   
65
     Ben Noah Suresh, N, ---, --- and Jill
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