Where Bob is From I am from the ditch
from a truck and a highway I am from a soiled cardboard box (dented, abused, it smelled like rot.) I am from the garbage can the trash who was filled to the brim with the half eaten hotdogs and the forgotten cotton candy. I am from the litter of puppies and fur from my sister Ann and my brothers Tom and Fred. I am from scrap finders and the young lives from the unwanted and the lost ones. But I am also from the cage of a friend With a warm furry belly that offers comfort and warmth From the people that watch him to my hiding out of site. I am from the wanted and the yelling of the not so pleasant. I am from the thought of getting by on my own. From companions and friends from scraps of popped corn I'm from that truck but also from Ivan's domain. Two different places Can never go back. |