Home is white noise
Toys tossed in boxes
Stacked on book shelves
Fill the livin room
The cat
Licks her paws
Stares at me
Outside a car has a bad muffler
She speeds down our street
The children are asleep
Kirsten works on lesson plans
The bottom drawer of our dresser sticks out
My gym shorts hang over the knob
Piles of laundry lie on the couch
With dreams of being feld
My pen fills the spaces between lines
In the journal Jason gave me

There are no ostriches here
Their heads in the ground
The only flightless bird is I
A penguin on the couch
I scratch my junk
And smell my fingers
I don’t know why
I guess just to express my comfort level
I guess I can even pick my nose when at home
I’m so free I guess


Andrew Borne is 2 Cups Poet 1 teaspoon Musician 1/4 teaspoon Salt 1/2 cup Absurdity 3/4 cup Chef 1 egg, beaten 2 1/3 cups Family Man. Mixed together and served raw. His column 7x appears weekly in Oddball Magazine.