school
2007-11-13 4:16 a.m.

i tried to trick myself into writing but it's very difficult to trick yourself.

--

me and my new fingerless gloves say to you: "go fuck yourself!"*

--

*don't correct my grammar. i know what choices i make.

on my 17th birthday i went with my mother and her friends to the amish town in pennsylvania. i sat in a rocking chair while they looked through quilts in a giftshop--and watched three perfect blond boys my age rollerblade down the road.

rebecca remembers this, though she wasn't there. i told her when i got back, while we graded our peers' math quizzes, in math class.

could i tell you anything i learned in that class? i nearly failed it. we did things with graphing calculators. i wore a blue dress the last day to get attention.

--

but here are some other things i remember from various classes.

-native americans had it hard

-you're asking me will my love grow?

-the transcendental poets included someone whose initials are OWL or HOOT or something that reminds me of an owl; also someone who set himself on fire.

-during wwI, "over there" was a really big song.

-when it thunders during an argument, in literature, this is called, pathetic fallacy. laura and i could not remember this but we could remember that the term translated into "poor dick." as a result of this i almost wrote "pathetic phallacy" on a test.

-the guy in the beginning of jane eyre is not of african descent, despite him being described only as "a black column."

-human body contains 10 pints of blood.

-langston hughes wrote "a dream deferred" about wanting racial equality, not about wanting to be an astronaut.

-the distance between the eyes is approx. one eye's length.

- �puedo ir al ba�o?

--

your nose is a wedge onto me. i'd bury into so many parts.

so simple: in the summer i needed you to cool me down, and now i need you to heat me up. i have no thermastat except whatever your hand tells me. the babies say, "not right now."

what, then? build a house with high walls, plant an herb garden. or help me search the want ads for someone who needs me.

later i'll think of the discrepancy between the way my shoulders shake for you and what i told the girls in the car. for now, both versions of the story work for me, and that's what matters most. i must be able to brush my teeth without cutting my gums at the thought of that darker, truer story.

so give me something. draw a geometric figure on the ground for me, an organic one for you. pit me like a cherry.

i want to watch reruns of nova and drink expired tea that tastes like an old hairbrush. my plans for us are not unlike the puffs of breath of kids waiting for the schoolbus.

is schoolbus one word or two? what about when i kneel at the foot of your bed? it seems i've already lost my pit. one less job for you.

<< / >>

current - archive - random - guestbook - profile - rings - email - design by lex - diaryland