Tales from Olney HS West pt 2

12-3

Hooray for the Happy Hall Heroes.

+

Start algebraically. Start anthropomorphic shag.
My mother is a reincarnation.
If only everyone was. Ruby red
freshmen having difficult times.

Fine pat of the century.
D-Mac. Wu-Tang. A wall beat that
you cannot turn off.
How would I do it?
When can you return?
The equation of the eclipse.
Koszi is a raunchy thank you.
I do not even stand it.

*

12-7

"You know I'm math." - Chris

*

The concept of absence, as
enduring and timeless,
is a broken mirror.
Do you dare step up?
Only to be forced. Away.

*

Music on my iPad.

*

In consequence we do not double-check the
DOUBLE-DUTCH quantifier tonight.
Toasted, bred flaking ash, oh goodness.
Pouches--madness--madmen--mocking
pockmark--toc-mouth--chantry
canticle balding feature
the axiom angel hair prune.
Whadda prude boys, whadda prude.

*

I lick up the streets, fornicators
with vengeful malice and imitation.
The media's hyped giant processor
flailing against clean air.

*

Practicing signatures.
Post-quiz-part.
The blue paper taped to the wall
reminds me of the blue upper.
Some cultural residue doesn't heave.
It sits and rots. We are protectors.

*

You know you really like it.
Yo. Check yo before yo wreck yo.

*

Drink cookies and eat milk.

*

Why do they stop going?
Once you go to night school
you can't come back.
Through the administration
I found myself wandering blindly.
Silk surrounded me and yet
I felt turned off. Turned spun, around
for once and for good. For a
God forsaken credit or a measly
meal. A chance at the win.

*

Before Olney: nonviolence.
Winter makes me think of muggers
and rapists around the corner.
Of electric plots buzzing knowingly.
Of frozen puddles and sleet spit up.
Of fogged glasses and shivers.
Of women and men in furs, pea-coats.
And thick leathers, mittens, gloves, boots.

*

Moona mom.

*

12-8

At what point does anarchy
rebuild its cans of ashes?

*

Today Ms. S said only gays
wear black underwear.

*

Today I taught Lucretia
and Tramaine about negative nancies.
Laughter. Tons.

*

Party music:

*

Does the Ronald McDonald House
provide care for heart disease victims?

*

Control the air.
Put on the round shoes tomorrow.
Birthday ideas.
Storms on a 4th floor.

*

"Welcome to Ocky" - Chris

*

Come more, cut less.
We work here, below the cutlass, every day.
We've moved on.
We have chased
our tails and
through the calm
of forests we
have found rest.
Rest in our
lame bodies.
Rest in minds.
There are trees
standing straight.
Uprooted they
reach with hands,
grasp the sun,
a golden fruit,
an outsider.

*

Did we actually call that change?
Smoking on our off-hours
in Gorham, Maine?

*

Jardnains.

*

I know what to add to broccoli:
melted cheese.

*

I shove caramels down my throat.
I feel Ignatius. Purchased happiness.
Glands of rumpled fat.
These entries are the divine.
The subconscious of a high school
sunked to the low.

*

It will finally happen
and when they finally ask you
you won't even think about
how your response sounds.

*

In the lands of fights
I saw a ghost hanging
from the ceiling.