A Tale of Ten Homes

I've resided in many homes,

in many cities and towns,

in multiple countries, in my life

The first one I can remember was in Poland, a bright carpeted bedroom

Where I would listen to poetry audiobooks as I drifted off to sleep

I'd recite them by heart in the morning

When we first moved to Canada, we stayed a few nights in a motel room

I thought it was the most exciting thing ever

Eating Wendy's for dinner

III

There's a nostalgic bliss of all the time before my tenth birthday

An innocence I can only strive for in my dreams

Building forts from an old couch in my room

Our very first house, but not much of a home

A backyard that lacked grass and laughter

No siderails leading to the basement

We never liked the view, leading to the driveway

Maybe that's why our cat ran away

And we got a new friend

A blip in time, the cats multiplied

A new house that wasn't meant to last

On a crumbling foundation

VII

Teenage years spent sulking on the bed

Laptop warming my thighs

The passing train shaking my glass softly

VIII

A hole in the wall

We all lived on top of each other, no privacy

My escape was my required reading for British literature class

Roaches were unwanted visitors

As was the bass music drifting from the store below

Building a home takes sacrifice

The fruit of my labour

A true home, sweet as a pear

A new start

Comments

Miles Away

I refuse to sell my heart, not for twenty-five cents The auction is closed, ladies and gents I’ve already sold my eyes, when they caught sight of the streets So now everyone can see the beauty of my Italian retreat I sold my tongue for gelato, feeling so young Letting the wild berries dance around on my tongue I sold my feet when I traveled to see our Holy Mother in gold Like a saint on a mission, I’ll walk until I get old I sold my ears when I heard beautiful Aida open her lips Echoing through the theatre in which the ancients used to sit But I won’t sell my heart, it is still free For my heart belongs to God and not really to me My heart aches for home, too many miles away Yet for now I am here and I will live for today Yes, I sold my eyes to Italy; it’s all I can see How I wish you were here seeing these treasures with me I’ll try to buy back my sight, taste, and ears too So that I’ll be able to share these memories with you

We Pretend

We pretend that we'll live forever That tomorrow will bring something better We pretend we're not made of stars As we roam the streets and bars We pretend we'll never die That our kids won't ever cry Over the loss that is our end Every student, teacher, friend Everyone we've ever known Has a constellation they call home When the moon comes out at night I look to them to see the light To all those who did pretend That their story would never end But on some nights, breezy and clear I see the stars and they feel near I can grasp one and hold it in my hand As it takes me to another land We pretend this earth is all there is to see Yet the stars and crickets have spoken to me We pretend we'll never die Because we truly won't To someone's eye

Not Your Typical New Year's Resolutions

2016 is a big year for me and for most friends my age. 2016 means I'll transform from "Olga Taratuta, High School Graduate" to "Olga Taratuta, B.A." 2016 holds my future in its sweaty palms. The words "job," "money," "graduate school," and "scholarships" seem to have dominated my pool of vocabulary. 2016 is where I become a real adult, not the OSAP mooching fraud that I am now. But adulthood is a scam. It is a fable told by society to keep the economy in check. Adults are seduced by money. We become promiscuous, lurking the streets to make a buck. My original goals for 2016 were to: A) Get into graduate school B) Get a job C) Get an apartment D) Save, save, save! Then I realized that all those goals are money-driven to some degree. They are but cookie cutter resolutions, such as "exercise more" or "lose 5 pounds." I will not make money by aiming to make money. I have realized this ...

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