He be pickin’ up signals from the t.v.
Somethin’ runnin’ interference.
He got spiders crawlin’ on him.
I say he hittin’ that crack-pipe too hard.
Look, he staring out the window again. He lost in space.
He in orbit right now.
Lettin’ go of gravity, Teach?
Shit, da wind’ll blow him away.
Shit, he doin’ blow.
He look like one of us, like a gang-banger.
Ah, he okay, long as he don’t walk outta his pants.
Wet his pants, you mean.
He walkin’ outta his skin.
He give new meaning to lightweight, he fright-weight.
He featherweight.
He losing his feathers.
He a cuckoo bird.
Teach a cuckoo bird. Cuckoo. Cuckoo. Cuckoo .
-------------------
These are some of the comments made in my prison classroom this past week. I still put on my game face, my wedding ring, and teach as much as possible.
In the photograph I’m holding up a running t-shirt from my high school days.
12 comments:
If you are feeling like running, I am running in an 8K this fall for special olympics. I am in training as we speak. If you are up for it, let me know. W.W.
You ever read Harpers? This reminds me of something you'd see in that section in Harpers called Readings.
Hey, JR. I know I always look at things in a weird way (and I don't mean to trivialize your rough week), but there's a poem in those comments, especially in phrases like "lightweight, he fright-weight." Makes me think of an updated version of Gwendolyn Brooks' "We Real Cool." And your teacher perspective adds another awesome angle.
If you write it or have already written it, tap me on the shoulder, so I can read it. It's good to see you. I hope your weekend's going well.
Least they talking the same shit and ain't tryin' to run the game on you.
I have often thought some of these same things about you buddy. LOL.
-Library Lady_
Hoyt Axton:
Submitted by a guy who once had a crown of horns. Cockold.
Hoyt Axton:
Ooh the cuckoo bird.
And she warbles as she flies.
But you never
see the cuckoo
Till the fifth day
Till the fifth day of July.
..........
Jack o' diamonds
Jack o; diamonds
Well I know that you were bold
You have robbed my daddy's pockets
Of my mama's hard-earned gold
..........
Well, my momma's ended up with all the gold.
And I still work in the pain industry.
But what the heck.
Health is wealth.
Get well soon, buddy.
--Ivan
I agree with TWM. At least their game hasn't
changed. Not wanting to sound like mom: With all that running you better eat your meat. "How can you have any pudding if you don't eat your meat?" Huck
JR-aren't you glad SOME things never change? Oh, and ARE you eating some meat? I'm gonna call u for coffee soon!
You are definitely on to something here -- "found poetry" assembled very deftly.
It is an amazing work of doubled-back points of view and emotional clarity. And you're scaring the prisoners!
I'd like to think of myself as an "employed, homeless man."
Erik, thank-you for the music cd's. I've been listening to David Gilmour's "On an Island" for way too long.
Jodi, I'm trying to get more protein. Right now, I just don't feel like eating much.
Casual Practitioner, Thanks for the compliment. I'm a long ways away from Harpers though.
Julie, Maybe once this is all over, I'll go back and reflect on the experience -- if it's not to painful -- and make a poem out of it.
W.W.,
For the past two weeks I was running 8 miles a day (I'd thought it was 6). Now I'm down to 6 miles a day, but my right hip has been giving me some problems. Don't know as of yet whether I'm in the spirit for competition. I'll let you know.
Hey Jim,
Great post! And do your best to take care of yourself during this difficult time. I know it's tough, but eat for crying out loud! Or at least drink something. Several somethings, I would suggest. You're going to have to eat at my bday party -- I'm going to be forty and ready to give orders. :)
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