i've always wanted to apply for CSSSA,
but i'm too scared the rejection letter
will be the future shades of senior year
when i finally hear back from the mailman
who took my essays a year ago,
all bundled up in pre-approved envelopes,
stamped, addressed, received, thrown aside.
-
but that's not for two years,
so i don't know why i'm worried.
-
i've always wanted to do something,
not make something of myself,
even though the verb is the same in
spanish, with a reflexive difference.
-
in regard to this, a wise twenty-something (contradictory)
once told me to let myself feel instead of worrying so much:
"to put it less eloquently, feelings are like ****. FEEL 'EM."
-
apparently i haven't felt in eight months.
-
so maybe in compensation,
i will apply to CSSSA,
though the deadline is the 28th,
and the assigned portfolio demands
an utter lack of procrastination--
not my strong suit, you could say,
as a month of homework is still
sleeping in my bed.
-
****, it's all due tuesday.
-
also, while walking home
i saw a norse god namesake
on a balcony-asgard, wreathed
in the byproduct of his last smoke,
and somehow, despite my inability
to feel, that just made me so sad.
-

today i will look for
chocolate and flowers
and find a pound of
belgian dark in my
pantry, and wilted
tulips on the counter.
i will hand write a
poem because it's
just so much better
on paper, and i will
serenade my darling
with bright eyes
on a scholastic field
after the last bell rings,
for at last i can stop
musing on possibilities
and begin to dwell
on solidity.

today i will bring you
a rose, for the petals
and lines and worn
down world-weary
ravines contained
in you; i will bring
you sweet darkness
in a plastic wrapping
for all the sugar laced
in with your hair and
irises, and despite your
fire and your heritage,
i will leave out the heat
of sacred mayan ritual
peppers because together
we'll be warm enough.

     finally, i will lean
  down close to you and
    whisper what i have
     not whispered for a
  million seconds or more,
    because i just haven't
     had the opportunity:
  *Ya llegué, mi querida.

i did a funny thing today:
i went right up to my shower
head, you know, one of those
reflective kinds where you can
see your face warping into the
funniest shapes (i didn't laugh),
i went right up to it and watched
as my mouth filled up with warm
water over and over again; and
spilled out over and over again too,
like pools and waterfalls or blood
and drowning (morbidity isn't
really my style, but i went with it),
for an hour, at least.
afterwards, i brushed my teeth
and noticed the hoodlum shadows
underneath my bright blues that
used to be so beloved by my
scatterbrained spanish teacher
and the sweet lady who helped
to surgically extract four pieces
of usurping bone from the corners
of my mouth.

i think one existential crisis is quite
enough for one day, thank you.

******* i forgot to shave.

I am not a ****

It’s a shame

If that’s what you see

When you look at me

I’m not a gangster

Or a rapper

I’m not the images

Plastered all over T.V.

I’m respectful to women

I was taught this

By my mother

I’m willing to fight

If the cause is right

But mostly I’m a lover

…A good book

Despite

If you like

It’s cover

Compassionate

Thoughtful

And considerate

Of others

I’m not lazy

I'm not a thief

I'm not a criminal

Who runs the streets

I work at least

60 hrs. per week

And don’t be surprised

When you realize

I’m very articulate

When I speak

I’d rather read a book

Than shoot hoops

On a basketball court

Music is my passion

And I write poetry for sport

Love is my drug

And I put it

Into everything I do

It’s pure

Strong

And addictive too

I bet you won’t see that

On the news!

I am not a ****

So please don’t assume

You could be missing out

On a good friend

Don't let your preconceptions

Resume

Don’t keep your mind closed

Open up

…Make room



I'm not a ****

I am a MAN

Try to get to know me

Then you'll find out

Who I Am

Oh hello there… What’s your name?
I can’t seem to hear you…
Ah, I see your problem.

See here?
This is where you look, It’s a hole in the door.
No no no…  Don’t knock. They know you’re here.
You see its made of glass, they see us, you and I
But we… we have this… little hole.

See?
We see them, but we’ll see the little things.
The unnoticed wink
The oh so slight smirk
The ever uncomfortable shrug.
They see us… It’s true!
But theres solid air
Right. In. between.

Don’t go screaming, don’t go shouting
You’ll only look the fool, I’m telling you.
So come over here, move on to the next hole,
See what you can see.

That girl over there? She’s just like us.
That guy there? He doesn’t like what we do.
Some people can’t stand it. We see their mistakes, or… insecurities.
But we don’t really know what’s going on… do we?

Now now… Don’t give me that look.
you know its true.
Just look here, I’ll show you.
Why… He looks sad, and the way he watches her?
Oh and her glare. Now… It’s not our place to judge, remember that.
We’re just watchers.

Most people don’t know about us, and few ever notice.
It’s true! There’s a difference between murmurs through this door
and a real conversation.
Ah, now you’re getting it. I can tell by your face.
Now now… Don’t look down, it’s just fine... you’re not alone.
Just keep an eye out.

See… Look here.
See her? She’s looking right at you.
She’s a rare one, just watch…
she’s walking straight towards us.

See… There are people, people out there, who see that door you're behind and the hole you’re looking through. They’ll see you… Just as you see them. And they’ll break this glass door.

Knock knock my friend

She’s calling you out
...
....
Now now… don’t cry, It’s just fine
.......
Yes… I know they’re happy tears.

Hold on tight, they’ll hold on just as hard.

Goodbye and take care.