*when i go home
when i go home
when i go home
when i go home
when i go home
when i go home
when i go home
when i go home 

a-homing-d
(for little DeAngelo with his long thick braids)

my feet
they keep me reaching me back
where dont i still wanna go
to the frozen arms of plastic things
who they never quite feel cold
lobes i am surround this am-d
me they be damn-d
do not i care! and on i swear!!
i do not care and any wayyyyyyyyyyy!!!
a whiskeyed can dented i am-inged

in sneakered land
tried i can to rob the man
with my own bare hand
drunk not that i wuz
where lost here is the glove
made this for my hand
for to warm how i can

left sucking i here the thumb
of some body this who unknown
bumping my head with syncopated drum
‘gainst me inside who me this i in
‘til no body i here
when no body they come

*These lines refrain throughout this drawing fading on after the end
Copyright © 2003 Asili Ya Nadhiri