A Poem

Trailer Park Boy

Somewhere between serious, facetious, and ludicrous lies my truth

Having known many and varied habitations,
I am hesitant to declare my inclinations
only to suffer the underserved indignation
borne by those of life’s lower stations.

But alas, I am a trailer park boy for sure.
Now hear me out before you abhor.
I felt a kinship to the people there.
Their subsistence was not the allure,
but rather the solidarity that they share.

Folks in the park knew their neighbors
and knew all their business too.
And the odds of them keeping a secret,
were like me ever writing a haiku.

There’s no keeping up with the Joneses
because trailer parks only have one class.
And when the hood goes up, it’s a party,
admission is a six-pack, cans, no glass.

They all knew you and where you fit in,
there’s no judgment in a trailer park son.
And the bad guys didn’t dare to come in,
everyone in the park was packin’ a gun.