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Man walks by
Hair dreaded long,
But I don't care.
My head is in the paper,
Looking,
Looking for a place to rest my head,
Looking for a place to hang my coat,
Looking for a place to hide out
When I don't want to see the world,
Looking for an apartment.

Step on the train
And off I go
On the search,
My quest
For that abode
That's safe,
That's reasonable,
That speaks home.

As the train rumbles on,
I try to theorize,
Philosophize
Why it's so hard
To find that place.
That place that wasn't
Too expensive,
Too far,
Too dangerous,
To small
Too...

Then I found it,
A little place
Tucked away in Brooklyn,
Not too far,
Expensive,
Dangerous,
Small,
Pretension.
I found a new home.

This is another old poem, I was looking for an apartment in New York and it was an adventure in itself. I remember seeing a room with an arabic woman with a lot of rules, or the room downtown New York the size of a closet, okay a medium size walk in closet. The funny thing is I saw the ad for the place I got on craigslist, but it went to someone else. Then I saw it again, and went to look at it and it clicked. I loved that place. Once again why did I leave NYC?

(Oh yeah, check out the other blog)