My father is not the father
who took time and body and heart
to provide for me.
My mother is not the mother
who abandoned me
but nor is she the one who carefully calculated outcomes.
My birthplace is neither rural nor urban,
but nonetheless treasure.
My schools neither teach nor educate,
but control thoughts and encourage an 8'x 8' box.
My address is not permanent nor temporary, and
other than a cashier,
my profession consists of living on the courtesy of others.
My religion is not the one with mass control,
but neither is it without morals.
My hobbies lie between a whisper in a roar,
between a low A and high F.
I am neither dead nor living
speaking nor silent.