Mother and father come from:
Father comes from far
Father comes from dusty lamps from wooden furniture
From the greenest grass
From cow sheds from pig pens
From Sunday dinners and boarding school
Father comes from quiet women
Bibles instead of novels
Mother doesn't come from here
Mother comes from church on Sunday
From watching the evening soaps from Coronation Street
She comes from gossiping at hair salons
She does not jaywalk
Mother comes from the smell of clean laundry and clotheslines
From milkmen and tea
From don't use all the hot water
Neither belongs in the city that never sleeps
I come from Chelsea
A place for artists
Wannabes
I come from the clean laundry
From shiny hardwood floors
From folded socks and ironed sheets
From perfection in details
I come from immigrants
From far away
You flew here we grew here
From paying fifty cents a minute to talk to relatives
From thirty-seven first cousins
From plastic St. Patrick's day green beads
From wearing sunscreen while skiing
I come from the word “stop”
From the word, please
Never “what” always “pardon”
She, Him, I, We
