home is where I need to say
my breath smells like vinegar
only the pink sky is awesome and
stinking like last winter when
the snow spits into the air its winter snow
spits into the air for a while over a home
this pink sky is therefore awesome
and my breath still stinks like vinegar
the almost Dove-like blue sky is
awesome or what I fail to say
for the first time in months
is the air is not
simply
a cold glass of water
ah it is a hot day in August and
my breath fills like vinegar
I’m gaining on this last breath like
the snow that is long gone long past
yet gaining to stoop and to write
(these two are like science)
home is not only what I meant
by these various words on my breath
which still
yes
these pieces of me I’d like to see again
are gone
yet nevertheless are all gone
and in me they are almost Dove-like
never to lose sight of pink
nothing much about me today
only this game I like to play
and invitations
to several parties
