I almost never wanted this – to be a writer,
but I write, I drink too,
seldom too much
That’s not discipline or pride,
it’s from bein’ too fuckin’ old.
Thinking of words, I write them and then
I point, and I say, “Hey look, I’m a writer.”
Quite certain that of the many who
thought they had taught me English
as an academic subject, who gave me
perhaps deserved grades without motive
with one exception, may groan in their graves.
A good man, Thornton looked at me, “Why
are you even here?” I think he knew.
School was mostly bull shit. I learned little,
but it was still involuntary servitude crap
I never wanted to do again. Not like that.
Today, I might not kill them,
but they might think I would. Back then,
I thought I needed them. Now I know.
One or two might scare a bit. Maybe.
A few. Very few. Assholes are not
educated out of it. But I write.
Look at me.
I think I always liked it (writing that is),
but nobody ever (till years later)
said that I was good at it. Maybe Thornton
hinted. Even Miff W. said, “You know,
college is not for everybody.”
Maybe not Miffy baby, but it was for me.
Surprised? Don’t be. You motivated me.
Look both ways, maybe with some bitterness and sarcasm.
Find motivation in the gaps.