Want

In the house, beside
the liquor store
on the corner, of a rented
American dream,

we stood
between the familiar
and the foreign, between
abundance and desire.

Plastic chairs,
cold linoleum floors,
clear fishing line,
and old christmas cards.

Mismatched pillow cases,
blanket covers made
of cloth left behind
on the factory floor.

We used to,
we did,
on much less,
and much more

have
a home,
spun
from a stronger thread.