Dessert, desert… whichever one matches

I drove across the mountains,

not for the first time,

but for the first time in a long time. 

As I watched 

the landscape changed 

with the altitude,

then I descended 

back down 

to the other side.

I watched 

as the surroundings 

reverted 

to wilderness;

it seemed both familiar 

and foreign. 

I once haunted 

this half of the state…

reluctantly. 

Now I was coming back,

just for my own entertainment. 

Still, I had to pause 

at a trailer-park

where once lived,

wondering;

“How was it,  I ever sustained myself 

in this miserable little corner 

of the world?”

Children were playing 

where once I worried 

about money, 

paychecks,

bills,

and the day-to-day.

Then I continued

to the hotel I had booked, 

and the concert

that had brought me

east. 

I would go on to have

an awesome night…

but for those kids

(back at the trailer park)

tomorrow 

would just be tomorrow,

but I 

would return 

home. 

How is this 

progress? 

Home away

Away,

away

from home…

and this is not home,

but today it carries that label,

and so it must suffice.

But,

It’s not home,

and that home

is that place

which labels

me.

Prick

I watch the people

in the park

(as my son plays) 

and my judgements

flow freely 

and quickly. 

I am aware

of my many faults, 

all of which, 

I carry in full view

into this public space….

Yet…

I still judge these strangers

with invective…

as I’m sure 

they do me…
except, 

I’m not so sure.