adderal, dandruff. steve smith. coffee. and greasy hair sundays.

i remember coming into mrs.simpkins 2nd grade class on a rainy day.
i remember getting my first b on the spelling test on that rainy day.
i remember my dad saying that i could do better.
i remember losing my first tooth after biting down on an apple.
and i remember wondering how long that apple would stay in my stoumach.
i mean, how many other apples from the past were in my stoumach still?
it's not like i automatically knew where my shit was coming from,
it was just something involuntary it seemed,
like breathing or eating or something.
something everybody just agrees to do for some reason.
i remember winning a writing contest in 2nd grade after moving to
the middle of nowhere texas,
where the cafeteria smelled funny,
but noone really seemed to notice I guess because they had become so accustomed to it.
i remember the rounded librarian's frame, and how she was kind of like the cafeteria,
the cafeteria and her were one in their smelly fragrance and in their gruff, aged appearance,
i remember the janitor e.j. and i remember wondering what he did when he went home,
or if maybe he just lived in his custodian closet.
i remember thinking how immortal his dusty, worn fishing hat looked on his wrinkly head.
and the way his stern embrace of kid's vomit seemed to shout, "I want to go home and play checkers with ____ "

and how he probably really did go home and play checkers with a blank space.

i remember imagining myself being in a rockett ship that would blast off when it was time to go somewhere new.
i remember the day i punched john mcbee in the mouth because he had been messing with me.
]and how it didn't hurt when he punched me back, and how i thought to myself, "wow this guy's parents did a great job raising a pussy" i remember feeling bad because i knocked one of his teeth out and so i wrote him a note saying "brady is sorry, you should forgive him" and when john came up to in disgust proclaiming, "i saw your note and i don't care..." i feighned ignorance, "what note?" which really seemed to throw him for a loop i guess thinking that there was some supreme being that put the note in his cubby.

I guess i did have a lot better handwriting back then.

go steve smith.