When I arrived at home

I found that dad had gone native.

He had gone native, like the rest of them.

Like the rest of those searching for answers

and hunting for the truth, he had gone native.


When we grew up and started to ask questions

and find our answers, dad did as well.

And through that I learned,

you don’t ever stop searching

and after that, you don’t ever stop trying.


Then again you have to be able to listen to learn

so not being us, or liking us, or understanding us,

dad went to the only place where he could find his truth.

When I arrived at home I found walls of novelty items,

“Get Rich Now,” “Power Through Persuasion,”

and “You Too Can Become A Millionaire Like Me If You…”


I found these huddled in a corner in the back of a closet,

posted on walls, rotting in the garbage, and dusty in the garage.

The truth is that some of these things may come

to find their own path or truth as time moves forward.

I made my way through the home shopping museum

and decided to utilize what I could of this sorted smorgasbord,


All of these ideas from the magic men.

I call then magicians because they use ideas and dreams

and they get us to hand over piles of hard earnings,

and magically they become exactly what they say they will

and magically we don’t, and we wonder why.


There were others in the house as well.

Others like exercising the abs, the thighs, the butt.

Rollers, pullers and leavers, assorted modern

torturous racks of stiffening and tightening,

pain and pleasure, and my house all at once

was filled with these with my rooms resembling

a modern day demilitarized dungeon.


It was all quite nice and dandy and some of them worked.

I will say that yes some of them worked. I must admit,

some of them worked, but not all of them worked

and I worked every day on them.


Yes, I found results. Not the results on the television ads

or popular magazines. My buttocks did not ripple,

my arms did not bulge and my chest did not vibrate.

I did not get an eight pack, a six pack, or a four pack,

I, kept my pack though it marginally shrunk

and I found a little bit of what they were selling

and what they were prophesizing.


Who watches those two-hour television misinfomercials?

I’d like to meet those people.

On the walls of dad’s house I found novelties of every shape,

size and color. I found the truth’s, found by many,

and many of these had a little bit of that truth,

but you have to wonder which ones are selling,

which ones are telling, and which ones are giving,

because they are all getting.


Then as I looked around I wondered what if?

What if in all of these findings I found one that was real?

What if I found one that was handing out an idea

of something ideal? Of course everyone has an idea of the ideal,

but then if you have the idea and you can still get paid

then why not? And that is one of the questions.

If you can then why not? If there it is, then why not?


Either way, no matter is made to this.

No matter is made to that. Not that question,

but then what if another steps up,

and this one is free? What then? Well when its free

people turn away. People turn away from free,

because free is offered on the street. Free is offered

when you are not asking, but if I said,

“Give me a dollar and I’ll tell you.” You might do it.


No! The ones that are free we distrust even more.

Why? Because free cannot be worth anything,

if it costs ten thousand dollars,

it must be worth ten thousand dollars.

You get what you pay for

and you pay for what you get… theoretically.


So we cast down the wanderers.

We cast down the thinkers.

We cast down the ones that just want to tell us,

“Hey, here’s an idea.”

Then we discover that they were right

and we go to the next guy and say, “Hey,

go there. I see you looking. Yes, go to him he’s right.

What is it you ask? Well it’s free.

And if it’s free you wonder why I don’t?

Well we could, but you know, we already cast him down

and you know. So he already, you know,

so because we all, you know, so now, yeah you know.”


So where do we go from you know,

there is no place like home, not from here, not to there.

You can’t go back once you cast the first stone.

We can’t go back because we watched the first stone cast.

Vilifying the trailblazers will destroy us all.


I grew up in this severed house of being seen

and not heard, with nothing ever owned, and no touching

anything that wasn’t mine. I never sat in the living room

still filled with the same furniture. Old and dated,

too worthless to be antique.


My father’s dreams only manifested

into what other people desired,

with nothing personal ever found.

And in one instant I learned everything I needed to know

from the last box in the garage.

It was behind the workbench, covered in dust

and half hidden inside a hole in the wall.


The box was marked “Everything You Need” $19.95.

My father must have missed it somehow.

In the box were three books, a pen, two pills,

a bottle of water, a pendant, a pad of paper,

a shirt that said “Honk If You… something or other…”

a paper clip and a pair of black socks…

I stared in wonder for a moment, then without thinking

I took all of the items and left the house.

That was ten years ago, and I have never looked back,

had any questions, or been discontent.



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