“I’m Ungood ‘Bout ‘Membering Boys”


(May 11, 2019)

man stopped me to say

‘I knew you thirty-years past’

I hate morning math

*(I guess – no! know! – what piqued my pith and formed that negative response: he said more precisely: “Didn’t I know you Thirty-Years ago in Sanford?” I unresponded with a slurred “Nope. Been here fourty…no, sixty years now and don’t remember you at all.” And truth told: I didn’t. Long haired (white) beard as well bum: I keep me in a mirror locked up at home so I knew this taller and fatter figure was an imposter. Thus, my crappy deed done for the day I went on about my trek libraryward. Even the guy’s voice was no clue. Besides, I had yet to exchange a just-read for a new-read buncha chewed wood with ink-splotches. and like an unfixed junkie I’m short N sour ’round ’bout then: giving me a new word-coign: snourt!)

8 thoughts on ““I’m Ungood ‘Bout ‘Membering Boys”

    • I got ‘forced’ into solid geometry and calculus in my senior year of high school, but I was allowed to bring a pillow…my old plane geometry teacher and later pal said if I made an A on the second test – he gave one a week after the unit test to catch the cheaters and reward us slovens who eschewed homework not as habit but as well-reasoned rebellion I could get a ‘C’ since I did no homework and thus would have gotten a well-deserved F. Same deal as that sophomore year geometry class. I guess my fecal matter stanketh not those days. I like math, actually; it’s just doing it on paper that causes me hives: think of all the wasted notepoetbookpaper wasted!

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      • They’ve mostly done away in some parts of skool systems here with grades and such and now it’s more like self-empowerment and outcome-oriented gobbleddygookishness. Personally, school almost ruined my education…until I found out about libraries. My younger brother found the county’s school book depository where they burned ill- and un-used books. And I had an older brother who took much the same classes as I and from the same teachers from third grade through high school…and I typed (for $2 @ page) his extra credit book reports and such the last five or six years – but the carbon copies were never used by me. I found out about summer school: if you were not a flunkout and paid $65 you could take any offered course, so I ditched the courses I didn’t want to take for nine months and spent six weeks of Summer in the company of something my neighborhood had way too little of – girls my age (and in a captive environment, too!) and acquired a wholly unearned reputation as a scholar and nice guy which kept my reprobate status sub rosa since I really majored in “Not Getting Caught” and still pretty much do today as well.

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    • Yassy, Bojana: you both are wrong, despite my claim that I am a whiz (or was it take?) at math. Though I must confess I am better at After-Math (’cause that’s when it’s recess). Yasmin, Dear, I do do math (and, yes, the pun’s intended. Bojana: when I was but a sprout “E” stood for Excellent in my elementary school…went grades like this E-Excellent; G-Good; S-Satisfactory; U-Unsatisfactory; F-Failed. My dad insisted all three of his boys be “A” Scholars – no one told him the grades had been changed – but our father failed to mention he wanted As in All the classes and not just in conduct. I did not, therefore, Major in Math or even my beloved AfterMath, but in Not Getting Caught Instead.
      Sorry,Ladies: storm looks to be brutal and near. I go now to buy a bar of bath soap for the walk home so I can shower and do laundry at the same time. Now, isn’t that mathematically clever? I even wrote an haiku in an earlier iteration of wordpress called A Dial-Done Shirt.

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  1. As in genus, species? Does Martian qualify? Seems I was found wandering alone on that dusty fourth planet and my alleged parents whisked me away and paid me two dollars a month – and found – to help them keep their last child alive: at least that’s what I tell people who ask if I have siblings. Further to complicate the stew (pun alert!) I confess we had sisters as well as boys, but by the time my older brother was aged enough to be entrusted with watching his fellow criminals so mom and dad could escape for a few hours, we three xy’s got hungry so we used the ‘rents last bottle of barbecue sauce and had a picnic. Rarely does the tale elicit the hoped-for ewwww! What ‘come of our world when a little light ‘annibalism evoke anymore?

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