nomad by profession

squatting below the crack 

where my window opens farthest and the ledge, i

watch the winged overlords that roam the sky

without borders 

they do not need an immigration visa to perch on my roof

or the roof of my mother an ocean away 

the bird is at home wherever it is 

home is wherever i am 

plus a stamp on my passport that tells me to

leave after 90 days 

and wander the earth as cain’s descendant

i live from suitcase to suitcase 

like a fully-fledged nomad 

finding temporary places of welcome that 

delude me into thinking 

there is comfort in my transiency 

in another life where I do not have to be anything, i

hope to be as free as the birds i study 

to perch on the roofs of unsuspecting strangers

or that of my mother an ocean away