There isn’t one way





He still sees that look sometimes

The ‘humour him’ pitying half-smile

Of the ones who think they know better

That expression reserved for the foolish makers of bad


It’s a kind of smug arrogance he finds only vaguely

Annoying now

After all these happy years

He has learned not to seek validation in others

Which allows him to be true about

Who he is

What he wants

And just how far he’ll go

New Jersey for instance

Is very far

He always gets ‘the look’ when he mentions it

He can see how bemused it makes some folk

He pities them their incomprehension

Regarding something so simple

To endure a life without the love of one for whom

You’d move to Jersey

Or Mars

Must surely feel like living at the bottom

Of a dried up sea

Surrounded by barren lands

Under a starless sky.









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