Volume Two, Issue 3

Where I'm From

Jasmine Harris

When they asked me where I was from, I responded Arkansas
She said, you know that’s one of the poorest states
But we were broke, not poor
Syrup sandwiches using white bread, ramen or whatever’s there
Watching taped rerun, reciting words acting as if we truly compare
Asking them who gets toons after the tax holiday
My advanced placement peers perplexed, wondering why I was in the class to stay
Must have knelt down on my knees to pray, in a broken tongue, ruby bridges hopes we clung, angela’s sons and daughters
Woke zombies lambs to the slaughter
Wonder if they care
That we are warmed by the oven, bath water boiled on the stove
Sharing each nook, cranny, and cove
Even piss poor dreams with our brothers, sisters, cousins
Playing the dozens
And any other makeshift made up “don’t touch nothing, cause you ain’t got toy money” games
Using whatever we had
Using whatever we had and could
To make ends meet, hoping the connection creates light from the cored like pineapple great migrations resilient motivations
reaching to ‘ol dude next door
Faintly dusting the floor
Are our passed down pants and bootless feet
We were told to strap up, suck it up
And keep running
Where I’m from

Jasmine Harris: "I am a secondary educator and published poet featured in the International Poetry Digest learning and living in Arkansas. I’m a certified wordsmith with a B.A. in Linguistics and currently enrolled in graduate school to further equity in education. I began writing during adolescence as a means to promote mental health."

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