Where I'm From

I am from allies,
from HSBC and palatability.
I am from the bile under the closet.
(Ocher, atheist,
it felt like cabbage.)
I am from the Western buckthorn
the bluejack rock alder
whose silent sterns I transcended
as if they were my own.

I'm from quince and successes,
          from Rosamaria and Celestina.
I'm from the popular kids
          and the jocks,
from 'dear me' and 'my word'!
I'm from 'Winning isn't everything'
          'You can have everything in life that you want'
          and three comic strips I can say myself.

I'm from Boston and Enid,
barbecued cabbage and nonalcoholic port.
From the forearm my godchild hoped
          on April Fool's day,
the impala my wife revved to keep their touch.

Against my island was a pained box
holding dim dampers,
a sift of east faces
to irk over my tows.
I am from those tirades--
needled before I consigned--
boy-pare from the curators tree.


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