A poem

Here I am in Kyrgystan,
pasty white with no tan.
It's cold outside and the snow is blowing,
I wonder if my long-underwear is showing.
I miss the days of luxury and class,
now, even showering is a pain in the ass.
I speak in English in my mind,
but in the city, only Russian I find.
In the mornings I drink instant coffee,
then at lunchtime I have to go outside to pee.
I have now forgotten the smell of body odor,
you know, they say a fish doesn't know it's in water. (that was a stretch)
Someday, I will never again eat sheep butt,
but,until then, I'm bellying up for a choice cut!
I miss the states, and my sorority house,
the cooks, the maids, and the occasional mouse.
I miss the parties, the costumes, the dance floor,
now all I have is a schedule of guesting - no more.
Christmas was nice, but I did miss santa,
So, to celebrate I drank a lot of vodka and fanta.
I have to go, it's time to bear the cold,
I miss you much but this poem is getting old.
I'll talk to you soon, and I hope all is well,
Expect another poem...there is much more to tell!