Where I’m From
I am from
Board game bookcases and cement couches
Insulated by drop ceiling tiles scared by misguided dart flytes
I am from
Flickering street lights
(humming their cricket song to return us to our homes)
I am from
The worn weathered birch tree,
Casting its crystalline web after a fresh freezing rain
I am from
Sister Barbarian, she of the rasped knuckles
and lost spirits haunting the hallways of St. Peter’s
I am from
Omar the terrible and his lead stabbing escapism
And Smurfette in all her forms, coquette and unattainable
I am from
Third down and twenty
Blue twenty two, Red seventeen
Hut
Hut
Hut
I am from the Vernors
Chocolate chip cookies that melt in your mouth
The Brooms brothers,
trading insults with hockey sticks and barking back yard dogs
While under reams of paper the Quirinos craft comic book lords
Stashed in my closet
A hoard of ice heroes,
Traded or stolen, yet cherished all the same
To this day they remain
I am from
Card games and monopoly and CFL wallpaper
A playful explorer, requiring a challenge
Inquiring once more
