Where I'm From

I am from fuses,
from Photoshop and impartiality.
I am from the soot inside the motel room.
(Azure, pugnacious,
it tasted like eggplant.)
I am from the scarlet redwood
the tan Eastern buckthorn
whose liquid swamps I downgraded
as if they were my own.

I'm from gem squash and debtholders,
          from Wanetta and Daine.
I'm from the smart-alecks
          and the rockers,
from 'ta' and 'ack'!
I'm from 'The cold passed reluctantly from the earth'
          'Winning isn't everything'
          and three travel brochures I can say myself.

I'm from Des Plaines and North Port,
dredged breadfruit and fizzy juice.
From the nostril my nephew blamed
          in a landslide,
the porcupine my boyfriend fought to keep their taste.

Among my bureau was a stern box
holding odd receipts,
a sift of same faces
to nudge beneath my seeds.
I am from those longhorns--
prefaced before I enjoyed--
depth-churn from the bookcases tree.


poem generator by Mary Dickson based on the original by George Ella Lyon. A project for #NaNoGenMo, November 2015.