A Postcard From Nostagiaville

Home’s just a state of mind.
One needs no place at all.
Sometimes I look for it

around the bend,
knowing well it’s diffident;
never in the plot of things,

just an artifact hiding up
in someone’s attic closet:
a shoddy canvas rotting

in the dark corner,
or a fantasy postcard
sent from paradise.

I’ve come home to her
more times than count,
but it’s always the same

a quick boot back out.
Like I give a dam – not,
it’s just a place to hang my neck.

Some say it’s metaphysical,
propositional, a blast from the past,
a fake destination no one believes

existed, nor thought possible or reliable
for justificatory redress of such crimes
as kin will want to do upon each other.

Pines, magnolias, sweet berry pies –
the myth of home we all know so well;
a pipe dream for every sucker born,

a sort of dime novel
for the poor and rich alike,
an old saw we paste down

on town signs to fool
the innocent
of their bleeding hearts:

“Welcome to Nostalgiaville!”

Steven Craig Hickman ©2014 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited.

Note: this one is a sort of projection of episodes not in my own life but of an amalgam of people I know so well it could have been my life. I always remember Thomas Wolfe’s You Can’t Go Home Again … one of those great, but neglected novels of the Depression era…

13 thoughts on “A Postcard From Nostagiaville

  1. “Nostalgiaville!” — Nice! I agree, “home” is just a state of mind that we hold onto as the wealthiest of artifacts. I wonder why it is we do that – even when the artifact itself at times bears stains of chaotic filth. Hmm? I’m going to be up all night trying to answer my own question – which of course I blame on you for planting the seed. 🙂

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  2. LOL – it’s the complete polar opposite of all you’ve shared today LOL – I’ve been laughing since I posted it due to that one reason. I was getting all mushy, spiritual, peaceful and grateful – while under blankets with flashlights reading “you” LOL. If that’s not funny, I don’t know what is! Did you see my “heat wave” post? I had NO AC for 3 days and I live in HOT area – I tried to seduce my readers with an erotic heat post … meanwhile behind my seduction was a dark, violent, warrior, abusing her landlord and spewing venom at anyone who dared to come near me. I think that’s why i posted gratitude tonight (the new compressor finally came). That or you took me to a super dark place hahahaha. Thank God I love horror, goth and all things expressive hehe. 🙂

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  3. My Nostalgiaville really is a place of pines, magnolias, gardenias breathing honey into the night air. Like a rescued animal, I return to that forever home for solace. An old Victorian house smelling of bees wax, roses, and antique carpets with a spiral staircase and a bannister always highly waxed to accommodate the small butt of a little girl who never gets tired of riding that banister from top to bottom. I caught my grandmother sliding down several times and an aunt in a froth of crinolines and necklace of old pearls. You are invited there any time you choose for a slide or two down.

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