Your opinion on the chalkboard,
the one your teacher wipes away.
You are just another student, after all.
Who gives a damn about opinions,
when you as a person do not matter?
Stand up, get up, scream!
Refuse to stand down, insistently!
Go to the principal’s office. Go to the dean.
Go to your boss and make a scene.
First time out you get a warning,
Second time out you get detention.
Third time out you get suspension.
Don’t worry about getting too much attention.
Your words are chalk lines on a black board.
Wiped out by someone else’s mind,
a sponge, as they say,
with the capacity to absorb.
I often end up staring at walls.
Mostly at the back
of other people’s heads,
when they turn on me,
because I am not in Vogue.
For one hot minute there
I could have been famous.
If only I just gave a damn.
But, honestly, who cares?
The way that people talk with you
when they live that life
is just to satisfy themselves.
They get what they can out of you
to underline their style.
It‘s like people that buy mirrors
to see different reflections of themselves.
They act as if they were something else.
And they expect you to keep step with them.
I‘d rather be a milkman.
The milkman doesn‘t hunt down
the latest fashion.
He‘s too busy paying bills.
And he knows exactly why he‘s screwed,
because he has to deal with you.
You can’t do that!
“You can’t do that!”
he said, that classmate from school,
warning me about my attitude,
about how I shouldn’t give our teachers
a piece of my mind. “Just think,
what would happen, if you did that
to your future employers.”
Well, I did and I’m still not fucked,
though he prophesied I’d end up
in the gutter,
which might as well be true.
He’s a company manager now.
I read about him in the papers.
Oh, how he would smile
to see me working in the factory.
And pity me for having
and burn out syndrome,
for working myself
to the bone,
despite a masters degree,
while all he had to do
and get on with his life.
All the wealth in his pocket
and the lack of wealth in mine.
It gives me a laugh,
that pain in my back
and the fact that
I’m still standing.
There is something to be said
about living life to the fullest.
There is something to be said,
about not being conquered