Where I Am From

A Pseudo-Poem About Home from a Non-Poet

Jordan Bray
Sep 24, 2018 · 4 min read
Canoeing is a popular past-time alongside camping (Photo: Jordan Bray)

Folks sing a song about the hills where I’m from
It’s an exquisite tune with ideal words to strum

Written by a guest to these parts
She knew about how we don’t like

To make our problems other people’s concerns
So, I sang the line over and over

To scream its truth
To break the silence

It’s blissfully green come summer and spring.
Enough to shut my mouth about the humidity thing.

How many of us have detasseled corn?
I got the skin on my arms torn

It seems a lot of places mention this valuable crop, but we are particularly known for it

And I blister-burned the top of my head
Foolish girl with no hat all day will get red

A picture I took of a football game at my college was the best I could do for fall leaves (Photo: Jordan Bray)

The fall leaves so enticing at harvest
They wrap in a tattoo round my ankle

On the news, chill by chill, daily quota
Why so many times worse than Minnesota?

Winter is hell except ice fishing
With a handsome date except he’s too into God

When you feel like God has forsaken you
So he just ends up making a triggering ado

While turning things more distant with God

Folks say there’s nothing to do here
So, we all grab cans of cheap beer

My nephew broke his arm and had to sit out for the rest of the season. He was heartbroken. (Photo: Jordan Bray)

Like everywhere we put athletes on pedestals
Part of why I didn’t report two of three assaulters

Bookworms like me don’t get popular
Credibility doesn’t go to the foreigner

There is a piece of heaven in driving on
A sunny day with cotton-ball clouds and song

The highway is mostly yours
Raise a hand from the wheel to greet others

Hopefully, you grow out of road trips with booze

Here you can live as a small town kid
Where everyone is all white like I did

But you can also move to islands of segregation
My family did because of our own oppression

This is where I learned the truth, mate
Black people live in a police state

Patrice has given me permission to use her images. She took me under her wing and taught me a lot about how to survive in the hood. The blurred-out brother is currently a conspiracy theorist who believes in things like Pizzagate, QAnon, and FEMA being the real Boston bombers. The visible brother took his own life.

Social media teaches me here is like everywhere
Chock full of good old boys

The teachers had top of the line wisdom
The students were bullies and victims

And the long-suffering, grin-and-bear-it crowd works on
Toward obituaries that describe them

As good, hard-working Christians.

Right now, my sister is not talking to my brother’s wife
It all started with yelling, screaming, and great strife

Over an insurrection started years before today
But white power very much still in play

My brother’s wife says Dukes of Hazzard’s flag is all right
She doesn’t care what it was meant to incite

Public domain Confederate flag, Source: Wikipedia

Or who it may hurt now

She’s the best Christian in the family, but sorry
She wouldn’t let me come to my nephew’s birthday party

After you’ve driven nearly three hours, then more
Just drop off the gift at the door

That is why it has stopped feeling like America to me
Brother against sister is bringing me to my knee

There are new preachers speaking to me today
About an artificial Jesus built of feet of clay

Maybe what was taught to me was partly right
Look closer for justice in a Godly fight

Resist evil, seek righteousness, find the truth
I’m heading straight to my voting booth

Intimately Intricate

Where an exploration of the Intricacies of Intimacy can be…

Intimately Intricate

Where an exploration of the Intricacies of Intimacy can be found. One piece at a time… Come join us.

Jordan Bray

Written by

Chances are I have a migraine. My spirit guides are Voltaire & Bierce. Considering making SJW into a religion. Genealogist

Intimately Intricate

Where an exploration of the Intricacies of Intimacy can be found. One piece at a time… Come join us.

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