I am from a new box of pencils still unsharpened.
From Crayola and DaVinci’s roots
I am from the sailboat wallpaper down on my basement walls.
I am from the bud of a unpicked raspberry.
And from the uneven lines across a watermelon.
I am from my grandpas cheesy jokes.
From Barbie and Ken.
And uneven lettering of “Budde” on the mailbox.
I am from candy corn pants with checkered sweaters.
From hold my hand and i before e except after c.
I am from mary janes from 10-12 on Sundays and doodles within the pews.
I am from the Michigan Budde tree.
From squeaky cheese curds and grapefruit juice.
From the road trips, the hits and misses.
The fish tanks that take up my brothers room.
And the old electronics.
I am from the stories.
Full of descriptive gestures and sarcastic smiles.
I am from the punchline of a joke.
And the smile it receives.