Where I’m From
Perhaps I’m not from tie dyed socks or tofu burritos
Or long haired boys high in rainbow buses
Or hoppy handcrafted Extra Special Bitters
Brewed beneath the High Street Pub –
And perhaps I’m not from recycling barrels
Or downtown protests of the War in
Or sold out nights with Yo Yo Ma or Mama Mia.
And perhaps I’m not from Serene Reflection Meditation
Or midmorning tailgate martinis,
Fresh grilled Oregon King Salmon with lemon couscous salad;
I never knew paprika on home fried potatoes,
I’m not from a mint condition first edition of Catch-22 at Black Sun books,
Or Bee Kissed Lip Balm, Higher Power TropicalTrail Mix,
Or wildcrafted Elephant’s Head and Angelica Root.
No, I’m from cadmium dust, sulfur air, blasting caps,
Anodes, cathodes, ingots, bars, pallets of zinc, mountains of slag, and flues.
I’m from Rooster, Goose, Dogfoot, Fanner, Igor, Barney, and Lars;
From
I’m from Jamborees, Freeze-orees, Spelling Bees, Fish Feeds,
Prom queens, Elks queens, blue jeans, and flatulent Jeremiah Bean.
I’m from sleeping out, sneaking out, camping out, and lashing out;
Mays and McCovey, Mantle and Maris, Koufax, Drysdale, and Ford.
I’m from a silly millimeter longer,
You’ve come a long way, baby,
You can take
I can’t believe I ate the whole thing.
I’m from pot roasts, rump roasts, pork roasts,
New pants and shirts in the fall,
Baseball cleats, basketball shoes,
Golf clubs, bikes,
Christmas trees,
Gobs of gifts,
A house that was always warm.
I’m from parents who held me,
Kept me in line,
Drove me where I needed to go.
1 comment:
I really like this poem.I should have requested you to share it also at the retreat. I like the new look of your blog. I am happy all went well with Snug and congratulation Grandpa Bill.
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