home again, home again
after following meridians, and doing the airplane slump,
i smell homeless. i have no home,
these 30 hours. these 30 hours awake
for risk that sleep would steal the flight
and, soaring, view the plane awake
shifting backwards

a fingerprint on every city,
and every emotion I shall leave to rest
in concrete, meterology, and land formations
there like a package to get the next time around

a traveling loneliness more kin to self discovery,
for stripped away by plane to bone of all you left at home,
you'll be quite a sight, resplendant in your sinew