finger licking adequate

i am a sad human being
i hate how i prefer to take the stage
i hate how i turn the subject back around to ME
what IS that?
consumed with self-example
i hate that i look at a hole in a sock
and think “that figures”
i hate how i put things off until
am rushing – because rushing means importance
and i KNOW that
yet time and again…
i hate that i worry more on how i am seen
than how others see themselves
i hate that compliments leave me
not knowing what to say
i hate that i feel i am best at doing everything
don’t ask questions
because of course i know the answers
i hate that my eyes are crooked
that i don’t understand why i hide
in pretending that i’m pretending
i hate that i could never really make others PROUD
yet overflow with pride and self-righteousness
i hate that i will give up and just leave
start fresh and try again
because again is something i’m good at…

what i love
is that i don’t feel guilty at night
when close my eyes and smile at another day
gone by and quietly disintegrating…
i don’t hate that i actually see people
instead of labels and that i consider
one soul the same as the next

i like that i’m a little bit stubborn
ok, a lot stubborn
because it takes so much to adjust
every stack of electrical blips in memory
decided as ‘perfect’
right …. i do hate that i have to be right
not so much for the being
but for the hope to gain in integrity

i hate that when grandma and i drove
all the way to L.A. to go to the La Brea Tar Pits Museum
and i had a paper due later that week for art class
it was my fault
to the letter always being my stupid self

so i hate that the museum was closed
and we laughed, anyway… went to KFC
which was just plain kentucky fried chicken
and we brought it back to the tar pits
sat on the benches
looking at the mammoths

sinking in their tar

i hate that i felt badly for them
that i felt more like them every day
wondering when the tar would swallow me

we finished the chicken
i couldn’t tell her i was dropping the class, anyway
art APPRECIATION? was all about memorizing
memorizing names, memorizing styles
(names and styles were posted with paintings, don’t they KNOW?)
for what? a teacher makes a difference

and i don’t remember what grandma said that day, specifically
she spoke on how life gives you disappointment
and you just roll with it — something like that
but i remember the sun was out
and i remember we forgot to get napkins
i remember we knew how to laugh together…

sitting in a park in the middle of L.A.
an old woman
and a young woman
two people who always knew who they were

…. but kept going anyway



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