i have the whole of the internet to search
and yet i return again and again to the few
places i know, i feel safe, and it somehow
frees me yet confines me: i search relentlessly
every combination of words i can come up with
knowing i have seen it all before, knowing nothing
new has come about - like living - same stores, same
dinners, same friends, a rotation - we call a vacation
some other place knowing that what it really is an excursion
to us unknown but to the residents home, each home lighted
at night, sleeping children, barking dogs, the glow as i drive
resembles the burning of rome, a slow glow that dissipates
