Dear Morning Bring Me an Ironing Board

No need for an iron to press my shirt

Only tea, with milk I do not drink

small room six people dress

eat pop tarts and tie shoes


America is always late

hurry, don’t forget your books

I’ll have more tea to not drink.


‘Thank you,” perfect English,

(of course, my people

speaking as servants do

hundreds of years).


The walls are thin

and curry flies

under the door

breathes in your skin

and nobody has a dog,

I wonder why.


I have a dog,

she whines to go and come

in the city, someone

will eat her, watch her closely

and wonder why.


In the suburbs, I have a pool,

more bedrooms than children

and bicycle for health

pants leg sock tucked I ride.


Dream of tea with milk

not to drink.

my billion brothers

million miles away.

About anthonyuplandpoetwatkins born in Jackson, The United States August 04, 1959 gender male website genre Poetry, Historical Fiction influences James M. Lancaster, Brenda Black White, Gertrude Stein, William Carlos Williams, and Al Filreis member since March 2011 About this author edit data As one of the most public lives ever lived by a private citizen, there is little about me that isn't already available at Facebook or Shelfari and countless other places. Poet, writer, construction worker, salesman, truck driver, climber into the attics of total strangers, father and husband, and all around one of the luckiest men on the planet. My luck continued with a win in the June Goodreads Newsletter Contest! What an honor! http://anthonyuplandpoetwatkins.wordp... Additional Influences: Bob Dylan, William Faulkner, Barbara Kingsolver, Gloria Naylor, Eudora Welty
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