Another day, another never-before-seen Typewriter Series poem. This one is near and dear to my little heart, it is it is. This one is about the pride I carry for the way I grew up, for the humble, beautiful beginnings my parents somehow gave me and my siblings, despite so little money to do so.
There is so much magic in the creativity required to invent joy in unassuming places. Our childhoods were wild, peripatetic, wandering things, and my mind is filled with so many memories of it. Lady G jokes to me a lot that “I’ve lived a thousand lives,” and she’s not really wrong. When you don’t have a lot, you make the little you have feel bigger. That’s what my folks did, always did for us, and taught me to do for others. I am so eternally thankful for this gift.
Anyway, as usual poem just after the little paywall jump. I love sharing these with this beautiful community, and if some of you who aren’t yet members wanna jump over, I’d love you forever. Doing so keeps the lights on here, helps me keep writing all this content for you all, and it’d mean the world. It’s $5/month, so if you can swing it, maybe do so?
Along with the scanned image of the poem, is the podcast of me reading it to you, and explaining it while I do so. I think you’d really love the inside peek. Maybe?
I love you all.
This is beautiful. Thank you for sharing this with us.
So evocative! What a lovely tribute to your childhood.