town
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O how
Ruefully I pine
For mi pueblito perdido,
What I wouldn’t give,
To be young again,
And happy as I was back then.
Maria, full of peace,
Do you remember
Traveling is a part of who I am
A search of me
In a place I've never seen
Weather buildings or the jungle
I find myself in bundles
I explore sandy beaches and towns where I am faceless
A small Alaskan town
Enveloped in a calm, magical mist
Where everyone grew up on a steady diet of
Chocolate brown X-tra Tuffs, playing outside until dark descended, and rain that never stopped
Even the rainbows seem gray
in this puddle we call Elmira
Slushy in winter, sticky in summer
I wish I could feel safe at night
Mark Twain is buried here
and his ghost continues to haunt us
38663 is the town where I learned to be
It’s the town where I learned to climb a tree and scrape my knees
I made life-long friends and stayed in playpens
and slide down slides yelling “Weeeeee!”
Woke up in a dream under asphalt treessoaked in the sap of the sweltering citywearing these old rat rags and sneering at the concreteGreyscale mindset stitched into my sleeve
It is the dead of winter, and from the kitchen window,
The oldest child watches her siblings play and tackle each other in the snow.
The bus windows lets me stare
at all those people that give no care.
Why should I stand when I pay the same fare?
We live here too, it's not your lair.
