Where+I'm+From

// Where I’m From // by Jordan Robert Hall I am from backyard swing sets, from the pool down the street and from and an afternoon at the bass hole. I am from hot and cold winters, blizzards and droughts. I am from breakfast night and a bunk bed, the dead bushes on one fence, the other fence warped over from baseballs slamming into the soft wood. I am from a table that fits four that we jam with six. I am from John, three Wilburs, and Robert. I am from a divorce and an argument, a home and a house. I am from sleepy Windham and broken down Sanford, my dad putting his parents car into the ditch. I am from Sunday Italian sandwiches, and seven layer bars. Under my bed, toy soldiers, legos, pok-e-mon cards jammed into a cardboard box, overflowing with fun. Scrapbooks unfinished, also called boxes of photographs that bring me back. Old stamps in my Mom’s studio, pressing their rigid, intricate design on me, a malleable subject.