Bleachers

I live under the bleachers.
They store the concession stands under here when the season's over.
This year, the guy who does the kettle corn broke his leg, and his son is in the army.
Of all the stands, I wouldn't choose it, but it's what I've got.
I shower in the locker rooms, get food in the cafeteria.
At night, stray dogs roam around, looking for food.
I keep the stand closed and shuttered.
They paw at the door, even though there's no food in here.
Besides me, I guess.
I could go home, but I kinda like it here under the bleachers.
And the students always know where to find the principal.