Mr. Rock’s First High Poem by A. G. Bawang

Mr. Rock’s First High



The first is always the best
The ones that follow are futile attempts
To duplicate the initial

The first is like a home
Home-home
Your mother’s womb

You’re sloshing around
You don’t even have a name yet
You don’t need one

You’ve got shelter, food,
Everything
And you don’t even have to pay
The bills.

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