I have grass and plaster walls
I have pesticides in the garage
I have towels in my closet
I have paint in my shed
I have a rake on a hook
I have windows that need to be cleaned
and a broken screen that hangs
askew
but still I'm not like you
I have hatred in my kitchen
and I have light bulbs under the sink
I have weeds in my garden
and flies on my wall
I have a teapot that's empty
and a garbage that's full
but still I'm not like you
I have neighbors that won't speak
and a rusty kitchen sink
I have shower drain
suburban pain
carpet stains
and leaky roof
and still I'm not like you
I live here
beside you
but we're not the same
I have cable tv nightmares
and taxes yet to pay
I have mail to ignore
and dishes to clean
and phone calls to make
and bills to ponder
a sidewalk to water
with a hose that's kinked
and still I think
that i
am not
like you.

---

Robert S. Devine writes from Vancouver, BC.