home on a sunday
it’s six-thirty local time
& I’ve exhausted
all my free passes
having encircled the globe
these past forty-eight hours
arriving back home
unceremoniously
& empty-handed
exactly what I was expecting
I can’t begin to say
but this time I had a feeling
something would be different
like happening upon
a door or a window
only I would be able to open
but no such egress
was in the offing
& now I’m back to the only reality
that I’ve ever known
planning on accumulating points
for more free passes
thinking next time
things will end differently
august two thousand twenty
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