(poem mimicking where I’m From by George Ella Lyon)
I am from hair grease
from Windex and hot combs
I am from the wood exposed nails
(sharp, bleeding
it tasted like salty summers
I am from the guy spilling snakes
The fiery red bugs
whose blood red spots I remember
As if childhood were an every-other day event.
I’m from grasshoppers and ballons
from Pearline and Frederick
I’m from denial
and don’t tells,
from Hush up! and I think she’s coming!
I’m from saved and sanctified
With an Easter dress
And fruits of the spit I can say myself.
I’m from Demetrius and Joann’s branch
pig’s feet and kool-aid
From the mother’s tears
to the moment my cousin because my hero
the hug he gave me as I cried.
Under my bed was a shoe boc
covered in lop-sided hearts with
a sea of memories spilling out the sides
to drown out my self-doubt
I am virginity--
snapped before cherished--
plucked out and barred off the family tree.
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