she tried to remember where they were

he was being pigheaded

they were dressed well

probably why he was rude

he was all trussed-up and when he was trussed-up he had to favor-up be polite

watch his P and Qs which he usually bandied about carelessly because he didnt mind defending his stake in the game he never minded a little blood bruising or the discomfort and days of sidelong glances at his black and blue eye

he never had to say You ought to see the other guys

the way he carried himself suggested as much

where were they she wondered

                          she wondered because he had dismissed em

tagged em knowtions  worthless an stupid  he always flipped words hard on their heads to see what came out of their ears

 

she had discussed it with him

asked him his take on preconceived notions

he responded bitterly  Biases  Prejudices     he said it was as much as standing outside a door an thinkin you know whats on the other side

she ran his words through her head

if she stood before a house  in a hallway  or outside a bathroom  she might assume what was contained within

by considering the door

its art or prefabrication

the shape or material of its knob or handle 

                                                                                 

considering what was visual and tangible

what she could actually touch

but what was behind it he cautioned abruptly

she could not know

---   Its a broom closet  youve decided

and opening the door its a descending stairwell

---   It is a bedroom

you open it and a dark man stands just inside its jamb and stabs you in the guts with the butcherknife that had gone missing from the kitchen  discovered while the dishes were being washed and things put away where they belong

a place for everything and everything in its place
                                       Wheres the knife

---   Its a lavatory door  the nap on the runner compressed to suggest repeated traffic in and out

opening it you stand at a sudden precipice gripped by the wash and draft of a twisting marblelit wormhole  churning  begging you to have your time-travel

---   Its a studio

and opening it you find it is an exit to the out-of-doors

no matter the hints or clues or evidence

not until the doors are opened is the thing(she almost thought  the true thing  ---  but it could be a lying thing)  is the thing revealed(apparent)

and before it
all the time spent
the consternation or worry

Preconceived

Biased

Prejudiced

(as he said  irritated)

is for naught

then comes the onslaught

those horrible acknowledgments(however true) that she tried not to utter in his presence  foment his ire

It is what it is

              

or

Whatever

or

Its all good(it never is)

which phrase by phrase cut him like queer deliberate papercuts  pure white clean leaves

pulled slowly across his fingertips or wrist or cheeks

and the rise of bile as they sliced his skin

knowtions   ---   not at all

1204,  Friday,  5  2. 16

They  Corporate  fucked with his oldfashioned Bic Cristal

Its myelin sheath

Myelin   Really?

Myelin really

           Possibly more of my thoughts have been enabled and passed through their slender barrels than have sparked an radiated Tesla-coil inside my brain 

                                      But back to black-and-white business

Its myelin sheath is whitened  tip reddened

Not transparent  filled with fredsh blood  

a dire spike  eyeing swollen veins   

copper-tipped  an uncircumcised cock 

                                 a cock a cock-a-doo cock-a-doodle-do cock-a-doodle-do done-did

swerving side-to-side ramming wall-to-wall slipping clit-to-diamond-shaped perineum

AhSounds like a cherry-topped whipped-cream sundae

But I digressBack to businessI dont recognise my Bic

Ive been using one since high schoolI withstood a English teachers challenge over its colour

She said her corrections would be obscure or minimised if we used the same-coloured ink

She refused to grade my paper

I smiled in answer and offered her a black pen

My smile told her she could grade my paper with it

I didnt need to say that her corrections wouldnt be obscured or minimised

She took the pen she took the paper back from me and she said shed look privately into what policy was

Im not promising you anything

I smiled in reply

After class she invited me to meet with her after school in her room

When I arrived she had the black-ink pen I offered her tucked above her left ear  obviously a righty

My red Bic was tucked over my right ear

She said her reading of policy while hunkering down and strongly encouraging black- or blue-ink submissions did not explicitly exclude a paper written in red-ink nor did policy limit the colour ink she might use to grade a students paper often teachers used different coloured inks  red-ink was typically used fast and hard  but they had leniency to grade papers in any colour they wished as long as it was obvious as long as it departed from the colour of their students submission

he smiled Then were cool

Yes  As you say  Were cool

she handed him his paper

she had made no corrections

she made emphases  offered suggestions  acknowledged strengths  encouraged him   but technically there were no corrections

he liked her strong crisp handwriting

since they had been cool he hadnt taken a step back or away from his red Bic Cristal to the consternation of many

what had firmly an inexorably rooted him in his practise

was that at the conclusion of her first year of teaching she lost her job

she was not offered another one-year contract

the English Departments head concluded that her teaching-style was too liberal and her application of curriculum too loose  he considered her deliberate laxity a detriment not only reflecting on the department

but worse and more abject

to her students detriment

he swore to take her awful detriment to his grave

                                          gladly       nonnegotiable

 

1722,  Thursday,  4  2. 16

0217,  Friday,  5  2. 16