On Coming Back to Where I Grew Up

I thought I would have a Wordsworth moment
where feelings welled at a reunion
with the land that birthed me.

I thought I’d say, “Sorry, baby. I missed you. I’m back now”
but instead spiders crept onto my legs and mosquitoes bit
and I was tired of dirty feet and burning garbage.

I thought I’d snap beautiful photos of nature
but my brother just tore it up with a four-wheelerand my viewfinder was stuffed with food wrappers.


Accompanying song: Roads by Portishead