About Me
- Name: Sagepaper
- Location: United States
An only child and service-brat, I was born in Panama. We lived on Indian Reservations when I was two to four-and-a-half -- crucial years for social development. Culturally, I am a mixed-up White Eyes from Mescalero. I began college at fifteen, enjoying a luxurious seven years of rigorous liberal arts education. Since graduating with a B.A. in Psychology, I have avidly read non-fiction, adding enormously to my formal education. Disabled by Tourette's Syndrome and other conditions, I live in Atlanta's suburbia. My father and husband are both physicians, and share a consulting business. (I am very proud of what they do, but I mention their occupations because people cannot seem to move to another small-talk topic if I simply say I am disabled. They must be told an occupation, and will start asking about family members to get one.)
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Herein find essays, musings, Haiku, and other traditional poetry.
Friday, May 06, 2005
Poem: A Night at Waffle House
And smoke rising up from the kitchen
There's grease all around every fixture
The patrons too weary for bitchin'
The coffee's a solvent for cleaning
The silverware stained and encrusted
Employees in uniform leaning
'Gainst the counters with which they're entrusted
It's late and they're open for business
As ever they are when you're needing
Some soda that's lost all its "fizzness"
Or grub that is fit for your feeding
: 5/10/2005 11:35 PM<< Home
