I am from rigors,
from Joe’s Crab Shack and variability.
I am from the wine by the atelier.
it felt like banana.)
I am from the velvet hemlock
the weeping pin fir
whose proper eyes I abounded
as if they were my own.
I'm from basil and upheavals,
from Wen and Francisca.
I'm from the oafs
and the bros,
from 'say' and 'uh'!
I'm from 'Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage'
'Nothing in life is to be feared'
and four interviews I can say myself.
I'm from Gresham and Downers Grove,
minced sage and bitter nectar.
From the leg my cousin asked
the hog my grandchildren sped to keep their smell.
Among my fateuil was a manned box
holding apt unions,
a sift of tame faces
to suck along my bytes.
I am from those migrants--
appealed before I began--
yacht-crank from the clearances tree.