The Previous Life of a Poet

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When I Paint My Master's Piece


Sometimes these story's are difficult to write. Memories seem to fade a bit, they change over time and from person to person like a game of telephone. You remember that from when you were a child? You pass a sentence along from one person to the other and see how close it is to the original when it gets to the end. Of course being the little rascals we were some of us would change it just for fun. And we like to make ourselves look better than we were. Anyhow, Long ago in a land far far away there was a place we called Da Bronx. I grew up there and maybe you did too. And in this place was a High School known as Christopher Columbus HS. After one awful semester at Cardinal Spellman HS, I transferred to this Columbus HS. A bit about Spellman first though. It was trouble from the get go for me. The first day of orientation and I come strolling in like Huck Finn, with of course my fresh baldie haircut, and WHAM! Some big dude grabs me slams me against the lockers. Now mind you I thought I was at least a bit tough but this dude changed that quickly. I can't recall his name but the other kids told me he was Dean of Discipline. And that was how it went for about three months until I was politely asked to leave so their reputation and high test score average would remain intact.

So it was off to Columbus and I had no idea what to expect. All I know is that when I showed up to register there was Chico about halfway up the front steps finishing off something he was smoking. A quick hey, and in the building I went, and a big building at that. At this point, I figure things will be ok since I had seen someone I knew and everyone seemed friendly enough. I went to some office, got signed up and was given a class schedule, then off I went to find my class. After about fifteen minutes and not finding it I figured I would just wait and go to the next class. I wandered a moment trying to get my directions straight found an exit and bolted.

As it turns out the exit I took brought me out the other side of the building where the courts and ball field were. Now you have to understand I really had no idea what to expect, but out in front of me was some kind of a cross between Woodstock and Cheech and Chong. That was when I realized this place was great. I mean if you were a stoner back then this was the place to be. Lawn chairs from home, coolers, joints for sale. At least that’s how I remember my first day of school at Christopher Columbus High School in Da Bronx.

As time went on I made a lot of great friends there, some like Joe McCormick, Muzzy, Elise, Dino, Joe Cowboy, Barbara, and a long list of others know the things that went on those years, some good, some bad, but all memorable. Hanging on the far corner before class sparking one up, or downing a brew, heading down to the deli for a real Italian sandwich. hanging in the project stairs to stay warm. Oh, there are a lot of little stories here. So hang tight keep checking and soon we will reveal things that never should have been discussed again.

Captain Folktastic

#5 at Others
#3 at Non-fiction

Text includes: growing up, new york city, poetry

Edited: 09.12.2018

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