My Cardboard Balcony

This Many Miles to Empty by Belinda Roddie and the streets light up under your feet your hot, rubber feet leaving tattoos in the asphalt half-melted in the sunset baked ennui baked lethargy stick the nozzle in your mouth you are drinking an oasis the spout spews gold the taste is too sweet you bend over on the street corner and vomit fire and smoke one more mile to find a liquor store for a bullet of honey whiskey two more miles to see cattle with their hooves split like tree bark the highway is as dry and barren as a corn husk, and the fields are brown, brown, and more brown you have driven this far but your tank rings hollow how many more miles until your throat runs dry? so many words to pronounce the growls are guttural gibberish there's a scream in your mouth as harsh and slippery as coolant and the streets light up

It was hot as balls - in the middle of February, no less - so we congregated in the shade of the largest willow we could find on campus. As Shelly passed out cans of lukewarm soda and juice boxes, Marco was fanning himself with his English binder. Shelly was able to grab the goods from the cafeteria, which she volunteered at, and the lunch ladies were fine with her taking leftover beverages since they would have been tossed, anyway.

"Welcome back to the singles club," Jeffrey said, holding up his glass of cheap bubbly up to my own flute. "Happy Valentine's Day." "If you had glorious knockers," I quipped, "it could be Galentine's Day." "Hey," said Jeffrey. "Hey, now. Guys can have glorious knockers, too. Girls aren't the only ones." "Fair point." "I can always load up on the pizza, but...I don't want moobs like your ex-boyfriend."

by Belinda Roddie "But why would you buy pre-wilted roses?" "Makes a statement." "...What." "It makes a statement." " What statement?" "You really want to know?" " Yes!" "That love is fleeting." "..." "That flowers are just fragile symbols of what should be deemed a more permanent and strong emotional commitment." "..." "Or that everything's impermanent, really, so you may as well cut to the chase and show death before it destroys beauty." "..." "..." "John, that is so goth." "I may have gone through a goth phase in my high school years." "What? You?" "Oh, yeah." " How?" "Well, you see, you find some guyliner and some torn up black jeans, and - " "No, I mean how did you get away with being goth?" "What, you saying a black kid c...

After the madness of the game and witnessing just how many racist classmates I really had, I heard a lot of friends use the line, "Well, there goes my faith in humanity." However, given that my faith in humanity was pretty meager to begin me, the levels of said confidence didn't exactly fluctuate. Besides, half of my immediate family was grossly racist - which was why I hadn't told them about my girlfriend Shannon, who put all the other girls at school, black or white, to shame.

So a lot happened since my last introspection. I got to meet a wonderful author whose debut novel I loved. I delved further into the madness that is PACT (Performance Assessment for California Teachers; basically what I need to pass in order to get my teaching credential). I saw my staff at Fusion work valiantly to maintain order despite some departures. And I officially completed my first self-written English unit at a public high school. A lot's been finished and accomplished, but a whole lot more's on the way. And as much as my anxiety tries to convince me otherwise, I know I can do this. In the meantime, I've tried to maintain as robust of a social life as I can. Just tonight, I got to catch up with a buddy of mine and have some good food and drinks (while playing a mean game of skeeball; we're working on it). We're both teachers (he teaches piano), so I loved being able to open up about my teaching experiences and the pros and cons I see of both the public ...

How to Know the Light by Belinda Roddie "Failure," said the philosopher, "will help you understand the darkness."