Home
I used to wonder where all the school busses went
                        Between the hours of 9 and 2
                                And all summer long
I once asked where everyone goes
          When they say they go home for the holidays
My mom told me
                       A parking lot in Cincinnati
                                 And I vowed never to go home, ever
When I grew up.
She asked if my classrooms were filled
                        With round tables or square
                                 I asked why and she said
                                         A new study links square tables to alzheimer’s
                                                   I can’t remember which kind of tables we had,
But I believed her.
My mother also told me that eating raw sugar
             Would give me worms
                          And the bogeyman carried a splintering broomstick
                                      And not to concern myself
With what my sisters were allowed to do.
To this day
           I have always wanted to stay on a bus past the end of the route
                 I’ve never gone home for the holidays
                          I hate square tables if I remember to feel any way at all
                                 I use sweetener instead of sugar
                                           I have never hired landscapers
                                                         And I have not given one thought
To what my sisters are up to.
She also told me not to lie.
             The older I get the more blurred my instructions were
                       What lies to hold true
and what truths to let lie

Hannah Litvin is a poet and storyteller in Philadelphia, PA. She is a practicing Jew, but defected from Texas after a 90 degree Christmas in 2012 out of principal. She has work featured in and upcoming in The Violet Hour Press and Summertide Magazine.

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