Hubert was an applicant with an accent,
Ashanti or actor's school, for the petty job
Of city planner. He boasted he built
An Opera House in Plant City. I told him,
Face to face, there was no opera house in Plant City.
Unruffled, he replied, Well I must have been built
The opera house in Virginia City. Hubert was sartorially attired
In clothes of capitulation, the type worn
By slave mentalities and the unself-owned,
Faded blue jeans and a T-shirt, much washed,
That advertised light beer. Hubert suddenly began
To cry, "I want my sister. I need my sister."
I told him, face to face, that no had no sister.
He had no brother. He was an only child.
And his mother and father were dead.
Hubert shouted, I'm going to find my sister.
Hubert looked at me as if my chronicle
Of his life were a fiction.
Hubert spent the worst years of his life,
Searching for his sister.
Hubert never found his sister,
So Hubert in old age bought an Ipod.