Author Information
"Home A Little Late"
by Jeph Johnson
home a little late
and it still feels like home
if I had arrived earlier
it might have been warmer
and things I have scattered
might matter more
I try to ignore
a junk-strewn floor
cracked CD jewels
crowd a 30-count box
and dreams once unlocked
seem to dance in mockery
around this living room
I long for
simple drunken
depression
or unrequited love
to inspire
instead
posters and stand-ups
of cold and downgoing bands
await my discovery
likely long after
their websites go down
and she is away
(just for this one evening)
I turn my head again
and in the corner
a pair of old shoes
never stand
together upright;
one is always
on its side
like a cute
basketful of kittens
my feet (I hope)
will never twist this way
pillows for my head
and plastic bags of
yellow and red
peek at the porno
under my bed
reminding me of sleep
