Page 39 - HEF Pen & Ink 2023
P. 39

Where I’m From
By Andy Roberts I am from felons and addicts.
From prison visits and long road trips.
I am from running in the woods to play games,
Mostly of make believe,
(Pine needles stabbing at me when I fell,
It tickled and itched, but nothing ever hurt more than it should.)
I am from games of I am the king,
the rocks are my subjects
and my artillery.
I am from grimy diners and heavy cigarette smoke, From Joyce and Mick.
I’m from the get-over-its
and the I’ll-give-you-a-reason-to-cries,
from the Put your book down! Go be a kid!
I’m from long camping trips
mostly spent swimming in the frigid lakes
And sleeping on the tough jagged rocks occupying the ground.
I’m from Mary and Bob, rafting on rapid rivers and fishing in bare ponds for fun,
dog whining, kids crying, adults fighting, and fires crack- ling.
From bruised arms of roughhousing
and wiping away the blood from all kinds of scratches, scrapes, and bloody noses.
Hidden away in a bookshelf were the photographs and letters
all from Josh,
waiting for when I could be held by him again.
I am from generations of runaways,
hoping to find somewhere better,
from hoping we do not wind up the same as the ones we ran from.
Art By Will Eaton
By Morgan Jones
I always thought I’d have found a meaning by now
I thought I’d have a life and a unique sound
I thought I’d be on stage or have a high GPA
Or maybe I’d have ended it all in a generational rage But I found highs in mediocre lives and backseat affairs and judgmental stares
I found lows in reality shows and high school plays and acting my age
I hit middle ground with grainy sounds and burning nights and parking lot fights
Then I lost God in an aching thought and a broken plea Learned the only god is greed

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