Armand Poetry

Welcome to Armand Poetry. The poems (and other words) here are composed for my own thought and amusement. Comment and discussion are welcome. -Amore, Armand-

Wednesday, October 12, 2005


I was driving to work this morning
when a radio advertisement said
"Helping you to buy a home closer
to work so you don't have to commute"

Closer to work?

What a horrible thought
to live in an eastlake wasteland
of fast food chains and million $ homes
walking to my job

Better to live closer to home. But where?

Where my friends sip coffee
and lament missing the weekend dance
or languish, toothless, in a last chance motel
or waste the years in endless engagement

Where Kentucky drinks one too many ales
despite the fun time and cool breeze
Where I am a once graceful dancer
who misfits in just fine

Where my son prowls the night
restless in double digits
Where we are two minutes away
from true love and the latest malarcky

Where my drink, which I sip alone
is too expensive and Grants
and Franklins are reduced to ones
Ravens pecking at their own reflections

Where the crack and boom that have become
my soundtrack persist before the pub
Where I am comfortable, where I am good,
Where I am myself, Where I am at home.

How do I buy a home closer to that sound?

Where is home for a rambler?


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