I am from a Jiffy Box
From milkshakes
too thick for straws
Walked up a gravel driveway
In styrofoam
From ravines and kudzu
and old high chairs winking in a wooded pond
I am from Bond Hill
From nine years old
And wheelchairs tied to the backs of bicycles
Shouts on the wind as we tip at high speed
I am from The Price is Right
From pets spayed and neutered
From the Young and the Restless on a green couch
Three handkerchief movies and peeling oranges with one hand
From the smell of powder on smooth pale skin
Blood pressure kits and Pass the Pigs
And eyes always watching – “has the mail come yet?”
I am from the Almanac.
From state capitols and thrown math problems
Poker games dealt from the bottom
And Walk for Hunger tees
From E.W. James and summer in an Oldsmobile
Fudge rounds in a microwave
And cans of tamales heated in a thick green pot
I am from a river town and from a desert
From cacti turned to cows
From three generations in the ground
I drive past the old post office
Buildings burned, quiet now
A tourist studying an ancient civilization
Where have my people gone?
