Psych-E

Boys (The Attack of the Michaels)

they gimme
they follow my voice…

I took my car into a body shop a few weeks ago to repair the bumper and needed to get a rental car. So I stop by an enterprise where the twenty-something slackers are at the service counter slagging through the day, punching the keys, earning their nine bucks and hour. One the guys is on top of customer service and asks me, “Can I help you?”

Feel it closing in....

December 19, 2011

The carpenter pries off the backdoor to the house and throws it aside. We step inside to get a first look, but there are really no surprises. The charred limbs of wood hang from the ceiling and away from the floor joists. The goal is to just rebuild. How fitting for this time in my life.

I use to need an alarm clock to get up at 4:00 a.m. these days, not any more…

So I wake up; it’s 4:00 a.m., and I’m, like, wide awake, I can’t get back to sleep, so I tackle one of the shitload of stuff I have to do. Type up meeting notes for my condo association meeting. Because I’m the secretary-treasurer. I’m secretary-treasurer because all the other people are either too busy or would embezzle the money.

Man, bad news travels quick. But then, I was the dumbass telling everyone I’d be graduating with my doctorate all summer.

It’s funny that way,
you can get used to the tears and the pain

One of my younger sistersr came to visit me the other day, which NEVER happens. I guess my family was worried I slashed my wrists or blew the back of my head off with a shotgun. All of my immediate family lives in the suburbs. I’m the only one who lives in Detroit. Why? I don’t know. The hippies are taking over my neighborhood, which reminds me…

He wears his crown of shit
upon his liar’s chair

I have two choices: one is the truth.
He despises who I am, what I am,
My brown skin, feral hair
The hate transforms me
I am a bug-eyed, baboon
My lips become fuller
My ass gets wider
A distorted black animal with gaping orifices for gratification
No intellect, no conscious, no response
A pile of dirt

What have you become?
My sweetest friend….

You’ve got to give up what you take.

I met a friend for lunch to take about the utter fail in my life.

“Do you know if the Provost will give you a time extension yet?” he said
“No. But I’m preparing for the worse.”

“You never know. Maybe the Grad Program Director and Grad School are passing the buck because they don’t want the Provost reaming their ass for giving you the extension. Policies can get people demoted, you know. Especially if they’re trying to get full professor.”

About a little boy who was hurt in the worst way.
And when I tell the story to my friend,
In the end
He shakes his head and walks away.
“It wasn’t me,” he said.
“It wasn’t me.”
No matter what you want to think, it wasn’t me.

Thinking back through all these years
And holding on through all the tears
I wanted so bad to be the one
But when all was said and done
It wasn’t me,
It wasn’t me.
No matter how hard I wished for it to be, it wasn’t me.