There's No Place

there’s no place like home; really, I mean it: there’s no place, face, or orbit the earth space… like home; and there’s no place like your couch, and your widescreen TV; with it’s clouded, cultured dreams and potted dramas without an end; there’s no place like home; when your away in the soft white sand; swimming with guides and friendship (for hire) And a man comes in; It’s OK… he’s delivering the mail¸ and his wry Baptist smile says, “cool, your home, you work from here?” he means your couch, “yes I do”, I say, and with a face like a cooked fish,he leaves hurt and seething, with a gladiator’s, gnashing, grinding, worn out teeth; and there’s no place like home; your fridge and flies and dripping rafter-roof; and it’s fine; it’s just fine.