When I was born, my parents were stunned. I was illuminated, almost holy,
a docile burst in that sterile place (a poverty, a stupidity). This is how the story goes.
Wherever I go, I am my own ghetto.
I don’t drive. Mobility is an issue. When I am rushing, no one knows.
It’s like watching clouds
crawl across the zone of a flat Pennsylvania sky.
Did you see that? the voice asks.
I am there, intellectually dividing myself. Nevertheless,
“Taking Up Space”:
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