They tell me I am supposed to blog because it has been a while and graduation is important and one must document one's life for one's self and posterity. I tell myself that there have always been lots of important things that just never got done. Like that project and that paper and my lab hours. ::Shrug::
They tell me that I graduated last weekend. They proved it by dressing me in all black with a complimentary doofy hat and walking me across a stage in front of 100s of people and handing me an empty blue plastic case in which to place a diploma if they deem me worthy enough to receive one after reviewing my grades. I tell myself I won't believe it until I know I passed Intro. Though, I do believe in the stage- I felt it with my bare feet.
They tell me it rained for a week. They proved this with a lot of rain, sandbags, closed roads, flooded houses, a sump pump in the basement, closed stores, mud, and the complete lack of sun. I am willing to believe this one- I was there.
They tell me that I am enrolled in a class with 5 other people. They prove it by holding me in a building when the sun shines and thrusting me out when it rains and talking at me constantly between the hours of 9 and 5. I have words and pictures in a notebook, bacteria cultures in the cooker, my boots are muddy and I have blisters on my ankles. I think these things are related.
They tell me I am living in a house with 5 other people. They prove it by cooking me meals, mixing me drinks, finding furniture, moving it around the house, and requesting that I please do the dishes and find beds. I respond by forgetting the dishes and wandering around the house with a glass in hand like a lost puppy and not sleeping as much as I think I may need to.
They tell me I am a poet. They prove it by publishing one of my scripted memories in a small book so that I can ship it off to friends. Some things I do not need to be told...sometimes its nice to hear them anyways.
Definition (05/19/06 - Back Porch)
Curious, Spurious
And unfaithful
But only in the spirit of the word
I stick to the law
And illegitimacy is a comfort
Sometimes
Definitions trite
And a horrible way to live life
As if life were meant for living
In the threads of being and meaning
And a good end assured
By the way, have you heard?
They teach lessons in demure
To reach that ever-pleasant end
Mental acrobatics
Logarithmic, mathematic
And worth less than
What it costs to win a man
In some more vulgar way
Maybe you should try
It’s just not the sort of bank
I would through my nickel in
I prefer a gambling game
Walking the thin line above
This pit of death and something-like-love
Biding my time
Bidding my hunches
Placing hopes on hollow air
When the bet ‘just feels right’
They tell me patience comes
To those who wait
Sometimes
No.
I dance on the damn wire
Because nothing gets you higher
Than tempting fate and the drop
And I’m all-in
Always
‘Cause upended and falling
Seems better than the wait
Or showing up too late
And this is not the first time
I’ve put gravity on trial
I always claw back up again
Because
And sometime you’ll see
Someone will catch me
And teach me to tread lightly
On the fingers of the wind
Almost like flying
Besides,
I’m used to the sudden stop at the end
-Jn
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