They say you don’t know any better when everyone else around you lives the same way, in trailers. I was just a kid, but I knew the floor shouldn’t move when you walk down the hallway and the whole house rock side to side. One we lived in for awhile wasn’t any more than thirty feet long. My parents envied neighbors in double wides. I knew it meant a lack of ambition. So I never tried, convinced myself that was the way. Because if you want something it only leads to disappointment. Later I read Desire is the source of all sorrow in some Buddhist text. My parents didn’t know Buddha from boo. Desire is the source of all sorrow. You can take that both ways. I never tried until the white was in my cheek and it was too late. But that was the way life panned out.

ANDY ROBERTS lives in Columbus, Ohio where he handles finances for disabled veterans. His work has appeared in hundreds of small press and literary journals including Atlanta Review, Chiron Review, Coal City Review, Fulcrum, Meridian Anthology of Contemporary Poetry, The Midwest Quarterly, Mudfish, Pearl, Plainsongs, Santa Clara Review, Slipstream, and many others. His latest collection of poetry, Pencil Pusher, was published by Night Ballet Press in April 2015. His poetry has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize three times.