This was interesting
Stole this from Kels who stole if from someone else who lifted it from another personage. as i wait for em to return so i can pick up my truck after walking 10.5 miles from manahawkin to my apartment, i'll do this...
I am from metal frame folding chairs, from Monsanto and the Buckhorn.
I am from the story and a half farm house with no farm, a log cabin surrounded by yellow aluminum siding where the mice spend more time than me.
I am from the ragweed, queen anne's lace, and tent caterpillars, the grapevine, marigolds, and fireflies.
I am from Italian food and bad attitudes, from all the Von Beckers and Harters and Valentines.
I am from the free spenders and radical thinkers.
From goblins protecting the money in banks and leaving milk out for the brownies.
I am from Presbyterians and Catholics, agnostics and deists, and self-taught adventurers.
I'm from a land of misplaced Germans, where people still believe in good food and good fun, and Welshmen singing their daily conversations, where Meatballs and Chicken Fried Steak are served on the same plate.
From the Captain and his 6 brothers hunting down the Southern kidnappers who grabbed Nona, the old men playing coffee in the diner down the street, and the meistersinger runaway in America writing a simple lullaby for his granddaughter.
I am from the hidden drawer full of emptiness, the one photo of 3 old men and their ugly wives hung in a dark corner. I trod on through history as another blank page in an unwritten history of criminals and false names, matrons and bankers holding together a ragtag group. I am of the random tales told through the ages that no one knows are true and no one cares to find out. These are the things of legends, better than the real life.
I am from metal frame folding chairs, from Monsanto and the Buckhorn.
I am from the story and a half farm house with no farm, a log cabin surrounded by yellow aluminum siding where the mice spend more time than me.
I am from the ragweed, queen anne's lace, and tent caterpillars, the grapevine, marigolds, and fireflies.
I am from Italian food and bad attitudes, from all the Von Beckers and Harters and Valentines.
I am from the free spenders and radical thinkers.
From goblins protecting the money in banks and leaving milk out for the brownies.
I am from Presbyterians and Catholics, agnostics and deists, and self-taught adventurers.
I'm from a land of misplaced Germans, where people still believe in good food and good fun, and Welshmen singing their daily conversations, where Meatballs and Chicken Fried Steak are served on the same plate.
From the Captain and his 6 brothers hunting down the Southern kidnappers who grabbed Nona, the old men playing coffee in the diner down the street, and the meistersinger runaway in America writing a simple lullaby for his granddaughter.
I am from the hidden drawer full of emptiness, the one photo of 3 old men and their ugly wives hung in a dark corner. I trod on through history as another blank page in an unwritten history of criminals and false names, matrons and bankers holding together a ragtag group. I am of the random tales told through the ages that no one knows are true and no one cares to find out. These are the things of legends, better than the real life.