In retrospect, I think that’s what was playing in his mind while his passive-aggressive sulking about his worthless house guest was coming out of his mouth. Mind, this particular worthless house guest was just wagging her perfect booty before his conspicuously undeserving eyes, and had just an hour or so prior cooked without having been asked…
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Because it’s still Friday, Goddamnit! I wrote this poem back in college, and I think it’s one of my better ones, but you can let me know if you disagree.
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Situation: I’ve just arrived in Harlem after walking about a hundred or so blocks up from midtown. I’ve been at my friend’s house for about twenty minutes or so. Me: So what are you cooking? Him: Man I had a horrible day today … the landlord stole my pots and pans! [insert long explanation here] [...]
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I think I commented on someone’s blog once that the fact that I was born in the Bronx, raised in Queens, and spent most of my adult life in Brooklyn and Manhattan makes me American by nationality… and technically it does, doesn’t it? But let’s be real. Ask somebody to call up a picture of American-ness and you’ll either get a mid-western or a southern picture. Chicago is America. Atlanta is America. DC is America. Des Moines, Iowa is America. New York is New York.
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Do you mind if I’m a little fragmented today?… Oh man, I don’t even know how to excerpt this post because I have no idea what it’s about! Sorry… forgive me… I’ll be cohesive tomorrow, I promise.
...read moreBetty said she prayed today
For the sky to blow away
Or maybe stay
She wasn’t sure.
The strange part about it is that he’s walking around the kitchen now as I type this in the adjacent room. I’d say I’m tempted to ask about the aforementioned incidents, but I’m a little nervous that they might be true. If they are, then I don’t know who that stranger is who is claiming to be my father.
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Because I desire companionship.
Because we are joined at the hip
and it never tells me to “ease up off.”
Because the computer lab is going to close in half an hour and my mind is too dead from freelancing all day to come up with anything terribly original… all praise be to the gods of memes who are providing you with this evening’s post:
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I think I watched the door. There’s not much else to watch before service begins. I don’t know what I was looking for. I knew who was going to be there. Sister So-and-so, Brother So-and-so, Deacon So-and-so, and other characters all dressed and sanctimonious, carrying bibles and greeting each other like “Praise Him, sister!” when they want to say “good morning.” I wasn’t watching for them, of course. I knew what to say to them. “Good morning” is the extent of most of our conversation.
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