what if the dozen homes I owned now lie abandoned, ruins overrun first by nameless faceless homeless fruitatarians, later by termites & vines eagles & scorpions, rattlers & bats picture the splinters, cracks, the mold the odor, mounds of feces & bones gardens wild, asphalt guttered fences sprung & toppled — end of end of hegemonic gains here in the thirteenth home I own a rubbled ruin when I came, now safer warmer, it’s I who abide, further travel, spending, aims abandoned energy overrun by footprints & age yet every day I spring from my bed listen & look around, brew my favorite tea, explore inside, wander outside listen & look, conjugate, mutate interweave what’s here, what waits