Among the Alien Born

Nor this city whose blood
runs in the gutters of my veins
whose people barely graze my skin
though common as theirs
where no sister or brother
or god-kin knows me—
I'll get not homesick if I have to leave for
no passport lets me return—
no page stamped with a place date no
picture resembling whom

Still: wouldn't like to lean back
somewhere against a childhood wall,
refresh a next door face over a lame fence
and shouldn't I go looking for a lost son
to share my lifelong amnesia! Though gone
we teased then over family trivia
but no deeper than the lock's water
level and there stopped short

Time itself took on my habit
of staring into space and humming "home
sweet . . . there's no place like . . ."
see here, I carry a card with printed address
and visiting hours but has anyone found me there?

On the coral island, fixed and floating,
it's bonecold; the waves wash over (pacific nightmare)—
wake me let me touch home—not, not here,
not elsewhere

Copyright © 2006 Sonia Raiziss All rights reserved
from Chelsea
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission