Bursting.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

the house in eastvale
was huge

only three people live
there

all white like the walls
and the fence

well they were warm like
the los angeles sun

you wonder why we do not
perspire
unlike the place where we
all come from

to sum it up we are some
of those lonely people

always lonely and perhaps
will love it that way

fifteen hours on the plane
without a lay over
either in korea or perhaps
singapore

we eat a lot to a hope that
we learn more from this

and then the plane lands,
skids a bit
and we are not affected

this is home
this is the mind
and it is bursting.