Most days are without sympathy for change.

I can't drink coffee without
dribbles running down the side.
I can't leave the house
without a shit, shower, and brushing my teeth.

When I'm done with my shower, I
brush my beard
and my hair.

When I brush my teeth,
I can't help but gag.

Every morning,
it's rice, eggs, and
some kind of meat.
It's coffee, maybe
orange juice,
or a couple glasses of Kool-aid.

I wear long underwear--because
it's March and
New England is
cold and
wet.

I wear two pairs of socks.
I wear two t's and a flannel.
I wear a rain coat.

It's eight miles of
biking
to get into work, then
eight hours,
at least,
then eight miles home.

Wallride

No more time for sitting in the trees and waiting.

The town I grew up in had two
Filipino
families.
Mine was one, sort of,
and the other one lived down the street.

The town I grew up in
had the Mexicans on the South side,
in the lower cost
area of town.
And there was also
the ones that lived out
by the fields.

In the town I grew up in
I think we knew the handful of blacks.
And, just maybe
we knew all the gays.

In the town I grew up in,
they now have White Flight.
Even though they won't tell you,
it's all
because of the blacks.

Really though,
there still
aren't that many.

The town I grew up in
I've now
outgrown.

The town
I grew up
in now
has one less.