Good Morning (Dear Dorm Room)

Top floor bed and ladder't railing I'm brave you know

I'll exit my loft with feet facing out.

Backwards hand grip, reach back up and grab discarded socks

Cold ground awaits, which I welcome out of fairness.

 

I am lucky enough to learn English first

you're so clever, you know, but I can check on grammar

on papers, so long as you help me with my painting,

or plaster casting, installation, next inherent amazement.

 

I can't stroke you much, kitty, you make me sneeze

But in the next room over I hear her tell you what she's thinking

an old leaf kept turned, she is the best listener

and she jumps to respond, meows back to you.

 

And they pretend to know what they did for them to deserve you;

you're so funny, you know, and if this boy only knew

how he'd have to come back to me if he ever devalued you

because I'm you're friend, and you have better things to do.

This poem is about: 
My community

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