I got there on time
and no one was home.
I waited, paced the sidewalk.

I looked at my watch and shook
my head: Where are they?
I went around back and peered
into the windows: no life.

Unreliable ancestors!
Then it was night and I began
to doubt: It’s all lies,
I came from no one, nowhere,
had no folks and no hometown,

no old friends. I was born
of rumors, a whisper in one
state, an unsubstantial brawl
in another, uncontiguous state.

Green was here, I scrawled
on a scrap of paper, and stuck it
inside the screen. Started to leave,

turned, scratched out my name—
then wrote it back again.