Sunday, March 14, 2021

Mr. Saturday says, please, call me Mandatory

rising runnels of

scorched coffee smelling bullshit.


my Cuban heels besmirched on a 

Saturday morning at school.

 

the halls are forked with effluvia,

we erect battlements around

our shitty disciplinary tributaries

 

that meet briefly

to renounce the sin of throwing

grips of cash at

carpetbaggers

who arrange what they do into digestible units

who mistake  loving the Houston Astros for

foreplay

 they

tag team

brain fuck

us all by powerpoint,

 

from the comfort of their home offices.

 

they want our shoes back

but i guess If we have one weakness

its they just love too much

 

exciting new solutions

a cure  for test scores,

neck lines, and expectations.

 

the district is smitten.

my inbox is wet.

 

the real challenge here is

how to navigate

embarrassing public displays

of explicit personal/political animosity

from a disgruntled faculty

when you’ve got a piss stain on your khakis


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