I’ll start…(with this fabulous prompt seen everywhere around the Internets)

Where I’m from

I am from the garden patch built atop a garbage heap, from Flaming Hot Cheeto shame and clove cigarettes.

I am from the second story window in the yellowish house, from creaky floorboards, leaky faucets, and beds filled to capacity….someone’s used up the last of the good toilet paper again.

I am from the cabbage patch (past the onions), reportin’ for potato bug pickin’ duty, weary of the thorns on that rose bush and climber of the tallest cherry tree.

I am from the wicked squirell who leaves treats on my window sill and Drama with my mama (with a capital “D”.) I am from Kats, Ayzenberg and Patsay.

I am from fierce passion and impressive obstinance.

From if you laugh on Friday then you’ll cry on Sunday and pray to your nuggets the bus won’t turn.

I am from self diagnosed Animism and a tiny golden cross tucked away for safe keeping. From kosher pork and the absence of a bar mitzvah to standing under a chuppah with my beshert.

I’m from Khmelnitsky and Krasnormersk, pickled herring and caramel n’ cocoa waffle cake, boiled hot dogs on toast in the ruthless school cafeteria and Capn’Crunch Peanut Butter under the floorboards.

From stolen bread loaves, hiding in my daddy’s trenchcoat backstage, carpentry workshops and kitchen stoves.

I am from the cardboard blue box with diplomas, war medals and proof of citizenship.

Where are you from?