Home Haiku

To be in Brooklyn

after the sand and ocean

is tough to swallow.

Today

The cat is at the window and he looks and all he thinks about is freedom. This is the same cat whom did receive freedom and ended up in a bodega, searching for his papa. Dying to get out of the brooms and mops he had been stuck in between. He was dehydrated and sick when he made his way back. He wasn't himself as he lapped water from two bowls at once. Then he knew he was home and it was comfortable. I watch him now, at the window, and he is a cat. He wants to go, not really and knows he shouldn't, but he wants to.

I'm not really sure where this post is going. I do know I have re-discovered Brand Nubian. Maybe that is the kind of home I'm looking for. Old school home. I used to love Grand Puba. For Christ's sake, he was an MC-teddy bear to me. So amazing with his rhyme scheme, yet I could play him to my mom and out the window back in high school. He was, back then, and now, a great MC.

Been doing a lot of driving lately, especially between FL's place and mine. She's in Ditmas Park, BK. I'm in Bed-Stuy/Crown Heights, BK. Night and day neighborhoods, yet I feel they are the same. None really want to live in them, but people do, and they are great in their own ways. Mine has a huge backyard; hers has air conditioning and way old trees. Man, by old, I'm talking trees from the 1800s.

So, there is where home has led me. I'm exhausted. And, must now end the post with a haiku:

Window, cats and beer,

dog barking in the backyard,

street lights on and pink.