Libraries, McDonald’s, and hospital cafes
are my homes.
You see, these are all the places to which, and from which,
I roam.
Living this life is hard.
Living this lie is hard.
Sometimes these places,
seem just too, too far.
Yet still I roam
To a different one of my homes.
These homes are invaded by others,
Who greet me as my sisters and my brothers.
Yet they just roam in and out of my homes.
They don’t stay; I do.
I often ask He, the one main man,
who I know also roamed:
Which place
did He call home?