This is not a poem, but a contradiction.
It’s how it can snow on Tuesday
and I can sunbathe on Friday.
It’s the cultural ignorance I seek
to separate myself from, all
the while knowing it’s in my skin.
It’s ice cream trucks and late
night sandwiches. Hovering
parents and absent bosses.
Going to bed when it’s light out;
waking up in the dark.
Stomach pain, noisy neighbors,
spiderwebs, dirty piles of laundrystacked next to the bed.