Fragments

p: Pinstriped & Other Life Experiences I Won't Have

PINSTRIPED

I sweep and I clean and I swish.

I don't do much else.

Sometimes I wash windows,

but only when the pinstripes tell me to.

They think they all fancy and high class with their

brassy nameplates and stainless steel mocha mugs

and their "just put it on my tab" attitude.

Sittin' on their behinds like they's the bees knees

and I'm the bee-hind that don't matter one bit.

You know what I want?

I want to march right up to those pinheads

and give 'em a piece of my mind.

They think they can walk around like what I do don't matter.

If I had enough gravy, I would walk out

and show those fellas what they're missing.

I ain't goin' to, but don't you doubt that I don't have guts,

'cause I do. And don't you forget it.

If I had one of them pinkies,

I'd do much more than just wave it in the air like a magic wand.

I would hold it up like a sword

and scream at the top of my lungs,

a battle cry, uvula shaking and all.

I'd have those pinstripes shaking in their tighty whities,

knees buckling, begging for mercy.

And would I give it to them?

I don't think so. If I ain't got a say,

then theys not allowed to talk either.

They take away my voice,

and I'll take away theirs.

My mama taught me that karma's a bee with an itch,

and quite frankly, my honey's runnin' short.

BRUNCH

all around the mulberry bush-

first glance: her friend.

second glance: still her friend.

third glance: her.

your first day in a 101 class.

fifty minutes fly by. end of lecture.

end of your first encounter.

second day in the 101 class.

fifty minutes drag. homework. end of lecture.

tuesday morning passes.

fifth day in the 101 class.

twenty-three minutes in,

you stop listening to your professor

and lose yourself in wistful thoughts.

eyes wander. they settle on her

and you can't help but think,

damn. i want to invite her to brunch.

you kick yourself. who has brunch?