I am from a world,

where the ocean turns into plastic.

I am from a country,

where fights break out over whether rights should be privileges.

I am from a region,

where movie and T.V. sets are unfamiliar.

I am from a state,

where eyes meet fields of corn and license plates that say “America’s Dairyland”

I am from a town,

the name of it, picked from children's book.

I am from a neighborhood,

where the Osbournes and Flemings greet you with a smile and “how are you?”

I am from a house,

thats thick layer of dog hair makes the floors slippery.

I am from a world,

where the ocean turns into plastic.