a homecoming (of sorts)

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—
i see powdery lines of people
trapped inside the white lies of their inherited insanity
gazing through the looking glass on the wrong side of a mirror
glazed in fear
with every reflection inflecting infections of corrupted correction
like entitled sardines packed in between stacked rows of covetous tin can houses
jostling with futility for optimal “as good as” or “better than” position
by the sea: a homecoming.

the tide laps gently at my feet and rises with calm confidence
teasing and teething, while one of them says to me
“this, once a day, makes it all okay”
as if saying it out loud could make it more real than a surreal pipe dream
prompting the OC anarchist arising within me…