poem

I am from the sharks
from the depth of the Pacific
I am from flowerpots hanging from our ceiling
(fertile, damp,
it smelled like worms)
I am from the clams
the hermit crabs
whose shells are left behind for
myself to pick them up

I am from brownies and bibles
from Mom and Dad
I am from the show-offs
and the athletes
from Hey there mate, and Get your surfs up
I am from Man does not live by bread alone
with benches arranged by
13X4

I am from In-and-Out and Suplantation
hamburgers and all-you-can-eat buffet

From the back of my closet rests my box
labeled "box of memories"
contained with items and pictures
to bring my sense of yearning back altogether
I am from this box---
a nail in the wall---
screwed in all the way