is not better. give me the old
wood,
the dull,
the worn and tired
look.
take
me to the comfort
of
the broken big
chair,
the scratched record
spinning.
the hum of the icebox.
i want the used,
the bent,
yet kept.
the stuck window shade,
the rusted latch,
the loose
hinge on the gate.
the torn sweater
and loafers with a hole.
all of it tells me
i'm back home.
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