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old home is a swimming pool filled with ghosts, the ugly and catastrophic shattering of the cosmos. the breaking of bones and the burning of scarecrows in frightening ritual. it's a vicious arterial bleed in the soul, soft footsteps on timber floorboards at the foot of your bed, it's the tangle of hair and sheets, a wildfire rushing across the vast expanse of dry meadow in your skull. it's the simultaneous marriage and divorce of playful laughter and death addiction. concieved in february 2016 as a platform for the performance of poetry and spontaneous composition, old home is taking it's first steps towards the mother's arms.