home
is where I want to be.
not that place
on the block
east loudon
up the steps
to the left
where i hang
my keys
on that nail.
in the wall
to the right
when you
first walk in.
i’m looking for
that place
where doves cry over 
the skullduggery of love/rs
who fight
the desire
to run.
stare at me
and I will tell
you. i’m partial too.
mouths with tongues
that know all the passwords 
and aren’t afraid
to say shibboleth
when thirsty eardrums
need salvation
or a sip of water to swallow
instead of
standing behind doors
with no locks 
that cannot be 
knocked on.