Home is where the heart is..........

May 7 Home
They say home is where the heart is.
Home is also where your stuff is.
Your tv, your pots and pans, your couch.
It’s usually where you sleep, eat, defecate,
procreate.
My art studio is on the dining room table.
My gallery is my living room.
My library is behind me to my left
in a seven and a half foot tall and six foot wide
bookcase I’ve had for 40 years
in six houses and 2 apartments.
A quick glance shows Renoir: My Father, Gravity’s Lens,
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance,
a Russian language textbook, several dictionaries,
my blue and white paperweight I made at Crystal Forge,
and about 400 other books.
My motorcycle is in the garage I
rent from the apartment about a three minute walk
from where my heart is.
And I park my car in the other direction in the south parking lot.
I live across the street from the Papillion post office.
And there’s a gas station next to that, a daycare center,
although I don’t need one anymore, a car wash,
a Texaco express oil change place
and an Applebee’s just a short walk from here.
The Papillion Senior Center is nearby.
I suppose my heart is here. I mean,
seriously, my heart is beating as we speak in
my chest as I sit in my Barca Lounger watching
an old Star Trek movie, after transcribing
Nights in White Satin from alto to tenor saxophone,
practicing Wooly bully and Tequila
all while sipping some Jim Beam whiskey.
Hard to beat that with a stick.