Читать книгу Li'l Bastard - David McGimpsey - Страница 7

In the end, I had to go back to teaching.

Back to two-percent milk and Mopey-O’s.

Back to due diligence with winter tires

and maintaining faith in Derek Jeter.

Every novel idea I have goes awry:

I end up calling the love interest ‘Fabiana’

or the protagonist suddenly finds gold

in the sock meant to hold the ball bearings.

You know, going back to school doesn’t mean

I’ve given up on living; going back

to school just means I’ve given up on life.

Though my clothes suggest I gave up in ’92.

In the end, I had to go back to the hood —

my mien, my chow, my view au cimetière.

Dude, you should have been there at open mic —

I sang ‘Skankland Refuge’ and it was epic.