The broncos won and I'm still at a dead end job
Didn't even watch the game, I was washing trash cans.
Heard about it through social media
About all the different things lady gaga looked like when she sang the national anthem.
Heatmiser, pizza rolls, dolly parton
Because one time dolly parton wore a red suit.
Which i thought was kind of a stretch
But i've read stupider things on the internet so i let it slide
I saw a commercial saying that tons of babies are born 9 months after the super bowl.
You know what else is right around that time in February?
Valentine's day
I don't think i've ever been less **** than during the super bowl.
Nobody looks at their man covered in nacho grease and beer stains and goes
"Oh yeah!" Its baby making time!
My girlfriend is in Florida working for Disney right now.
Thy have her doing laundry in a musty basement with middle aged Mexican woman.
It's apparently awful.
Ruins the magic she says.
Seeing cinderella scurrying around half naked doing her make up.
Wig cap and undergarments
Snow white with her nose up asking for kombucha.
Won't even make eye contact with the laundry vets.
Let alone my intern girlfriend.
I asked how the magic wasn't ruined before that.
After watching the play hairspray when they yell cut and
All the actors go back to their miserable lives, i figured it out pretty young.
This middle class manifesto
Where making 15 dollars an hour is a goal.
But she is the faithful type.
Loves her a good hoping.
That's why she hasn't cut me loose anyway.
She says she needs me around because i'm a taurus.
I have no idea what she means by that.
But i love hearing stories about mexican woman yelling in spanish at their iphone screens. And half naked princesses doing their makeup in hair nets. And her still believing in magic. I think it says a lot about her.
She gives me something to dream about while I wash these trash cans.

The professor said
"Family therapy is like a Pie Graph
Everyone in the family contributes their own piece of pie.
When people leave
there's a chunk of pie missing
and the other members of the family
have to take on some of those roles to fill the pie."

Here's my theory:
Everyone in the family has their own whole pie.
Categorizes each housemate as a piece of it.
how they view them in their family.
how they relate to them,

Imagine a home
Mom and her four daughters.
Step dad, his daughter and son.
imagine three bedrooms.
The adults taking up one of them.

let's look at the Mother,
Her four daughters
all with different fathers
she knows how to raise children.

The daughters all know how to
Be
Children, be
Sisters, be
older or younger than each other.
The step-father knows how to have
A Wife,
One Daughter,
A Son.

Well Step-brother leaves the house.

Susie has a child at fifteen.
what does
her pie look like now?

She used to have a boyfriend,
four sisters,
a mother, father.
Now lost a brother
gained a baby.
She only knows how to be a child.

let's look at the mother.
She hasn't learned: Grandchild
but she knows how to raise a baby.

lets look at the step-father, lost his son, gained four daughters,
what's another one?

The sisters, lost their brother, a role model.
Exchanged for this this new baby.
another sister?

everyone's pie is empty in some parts.
judging by some other
dead white guys theory
when who you are doesn't line up
with who you see yourself as,
that's when people develop
Mental illness

Well I wouldn't call it ill, but let's count the bruises.
That baby is going to grow up as her mother's sister.
Suzie is going to seek the comfort of men.
Her sisters are going to constantly fight between calling themselves auntie
and Big Sis.
like tossing themselves on either side of the barbed wire fence is cause for death.

The farther we go back in each family member's backstory
the more slivers of pie we find
Georgia has autism,
Carley diagnosed depression,
Rosie an abusive relationship of 10 years.
Clover is quiet.
The Brother, schizophrenic, autistic, bipolar.
Any number of names they can slap on him.
He doesn't live there anyhow.
isn't human.

Muffle the sister that says she miss him.
hit her, cut her, lock her up.

This was a case study.
I lived with this family for four years.
unintentionally filled up parts of their pie.
I was Son.
Older brother.
Boyfriend.
Father.

When I stopped being a fly on the wall
Stopped seeing how their story was developing.

I didn't have any pie left.

I stand before my classroom
on the first day--
it is Research Methods
a course that I am forced to take
but I am assured it is for the best
even on the first day
I am told that you can use
this course for everything.

But I don't know who
they are trying to convince,
is it me that the course has meaning
or themselves that they are worth something,
because if it's the 2nd
then the professor probably shouldn't
call on me to answer the question.

In my mind the redundancy
is a wax wrapper
to a lollipop that
I don't understand why I need it
as it was already wrapped in paper
and now I struggle
to find purpose for
a flimsy piece of plastic-wax
that I can hardly even see.

Rotating my head around
as if a person waiting in a traffic accident
and wondering if I can see the body
from where I am sitting--
luckily this is a class room
and every body here is
part of collision that they
never intended on having.  

The drought of thought
that I see spilling across the class room
and the formality of facing forward
while actually daydreaming
is sadly part of this necessary course--
where pencil stained desk
are the only things worth
drawing my attention.  

It's our special day
this is only the first meeting
and instead of being here 3 hours
we get to leave here in 1--
now everyone realizes
this traffic will last longer
than originally told
so maybe it's better
to get outside and walk.

Mr Wall Street
Yes, YOU
You in the Perfect Suit

Here are your instructions:

Take off your polished handmade Italian shoes
Yes, take them off, right here in the street
Don't ague with me!

You submit and obey
Not knowing why
You are my slave

Peel off those long thin black dress socks
Feel the pavement under your
Smooth, clean white feet
For the first time

Leave your former shoes to
Cry for their former owner
Some panhandler will grab them
and give them a very different life

Now walk into the cheap barber shop
And tell the barber to shave your head
Yes - all of your hair

That full head of thick corporate hair
Falling to the floor in a pile of silver silk
As the barber hides his laughter

Now walk barefoot and bald
in your $3000 pinstriped business suit
and your silk tie and cufflinks and starched white shirt
and cashmere overcoat

Walk barefoot though the financial district
Everyone will stare
Your colleagues and friends and competitors will laugh
As dust collects on your smooth, supple clean white soles

Destroy your privilege
Cut all ties
Burn your bridges
But first cross over to the other side
Become an outsider

Barefoot bald and humiliated

You can start again

Piercing screams that go unheard

Shattered dreams and empty words

All these things and so much more

Are what make life a tragic chore

They cry, and sob, and weep, and mourn

And pray for hope to be re-born

It's a struggle for survival, and justice, and peace

Or at the very least, for the pain to cease

"But it's their choice," as some may say,

"It's not our fault they live this way."

As society crumbles, cracks and decays

As they break their backs throughout the day

Will they ever be free?

Not one truly knows

But their wills extend as far as the wind blows

He's different, I think
When I sat down firstly
I barely gave a blink
So did he, none did speak


But then he asked me
"Is that x over y?"
And he smiled so gently
So heavenly, it warmed me

I said, "Yes, yes it is,"
And returned the smile
half-heartedly
In hopes he'd return one back

Everyday, I sat beside him
Everyday, I hoped I could to to him
Everyday, I psyched myself
Everyday, I believe fate would bring him to me

I think I started to fall a little harder
in my mind, so much thoughts to ponder
"What if we fell together,
or would he treat me like another brother?"

His friends are vastly... different
Egos blown, language ever so sharp
They'd play and frolic around
But he, no, he'd rather sit and look around

Unlike them, he liked to smile a lot
Unlike them, he'd give and opt not to take
Unlike them, he'd speak with his eyes filled of genuine interest
Unlike them, he'd make you feel... warm... understood... human

Time passed, I did nothing
I was ever content with small talk
We'd have hard time graphing parabolas
But when will love come around, my own graph?

The last day came, and all we ever did was write
He'd make jokes, and I would laugh
The hour passed, now time to say goodbye
"Dart sa heart", he utters, leaving me to ponder

Time for judgment day came
I utter my wish for luck to him, him to me
A grueling hour or two ran by so fast
I sighed, was relieved, was done, but could not afford a glance.

"3 minutes left!", the professor says
I nodded sassily
He chuckles
He nods as well
I think
I ponder
I feel
"Did he even feel so differently about me?"

The day is done
He walked off first
I followed
But there was no goodbyes
and neither did close the door
so I was left open

"When would I ever see him again?"
But I'd like to meet
but the answer is never
maybe pain is part of this growing...

Privilege: written on my skin
I swear I'm on your side
Though I lock my doors when you pass by.
Try to ignore what's within
The enraged masses to whom I spoke
Though I'm guilty of what's battered down their throats.
Get me by the *****
The phallicist marvelously displayed in power
Squeeze out every drop of lust; watch me shrivel and cower.
Place me within these walls
Walking along your glass ceiling as I dream
Fondling your ******* on behalf of the company.
I'm no passerby
Though I weave you on the street like a fleeting ghost
I serve like you're a growth and I'm the lucky host.
It's a **** good lie
To myself; believe I'm not guilty too
Of all the hate and greed that's crippling you.

I was born to please the glitteratti
Treat them like they’re gods right here on earth.
Whether a Kardashian or Gotti
They think I’ doomed to serve them since my birth.
I’m meant to feed you, bathe you
Live my life just for you.
I’ve got to primp you, **** you
Wipe your royal ****.
And if I move too slow
You’ll call me ****!

I’m so benighted
And I’ve not denied it.
I was born without a soul
And I know I’m lost now.
My life is blighted
And very much misguided.
Somewhere inside
There is a soul who really
Should know how.

I thought I could gut it out forever
But I found I could only take so much.
Putting up with daily kissing *****
Made me want to retch from every touch.
You are disgusting, thrusting
Your face in everywhere.
Like you are something; you’re nothing,
Got nothing to share!
I no longer care.

I’m not divided
And I just can’t hide it.
I want a life and I intend
To go and get one
A real one.
So get excited.
I have decided
To grow a pair and do
What I know I ought to.
Got to!

I feel my body begin to shake
My hands and heart ache
Wanting so badly to hold you behind the calm I fake
I have to think about every breath I take
To distract myself from the thirst I just can't slake

Memories of your touch burn like fire
My thoughts trapped in your tire
Every silly stupid thing I think fills me with ire
Just be yourself preaches the choir
But your laugh makes my heart crack like a live wire

Wanting so bad to once again touch you
Wondering if you want it too
Or if, with the rising of the sun, that desire flew.
I see it every day, the hair I ran my fingers through.
Your painted skin, that seems to every second be new.

And worst of all I'm sure you have an inkling
From the way my eyes are twinkling
Or from the compliments I'm sprinkling

And you continue to move at your glacial pace
So different from the usual race
But you aren't hiding anything, it is all there on your lovely face
You're just a unique case
Beautiful and delicate like lace
Yet dark and dangerous and hard to chase