Skip to main content

Home Town


 A young man slouched in his chair...


The first period bell rang, he wished he didn't have to be there

Over the P.A., his principal sang a good morning to his nightmare

As the girl in front of him, shuffled through her bag for her compact mirror

Young in mind, and doing time through the public school system

Criticized for not being hypnotized, his teachers would diss him

A worksheet had found him, that had traveled from the front

Questioning his future, he read the bold headed font, it said....

After you graduate, what do you want.....

To do with you life?

A fancy car, a career, a trophy wife?


He paused and thought...

And then with a grin....

He put down his pencil and picked up his pen

Because he knew he could write with out making mistakes

And that, he could use this as an excuse when his teacher

Would demand that he rewrite after he erased

And so he wrote and scribbled his rebellious note

That would get him detention, before his parents wringed  his throat


And when he finished, the class came to an end

He picked up his books, and began to descend

Passed the teachers desk and to the front door

As sneakers and sandals scuffed up the well polished floor  

He handed in his paper getting ready for the attack

And that's when his teacher stopped him and asked....

And he replied, to be as far away from here as possible

And never come back.

Through the eyes of nonconformity, his soul wanted to drown

He had a deformity that needed to escape this town

And the rest of the crowd, that would just shoot off their mouths

At football games, barbecues, drunken parking lot boxing bouts

Blue collar slobs, and shitting sports bars

Two dollar hand jobs from grade C strippers, treated like rock stars

Debt collectors and authority figure child molesters

Preying on the weak and failed methamphetamine inventors

Hanging with guys clearly older than he was

Slinging burgers and fries, and smoking weed at the back of the bus

There was no need to discuss, in what this boy wanted

Dead hero's and low life zeros is what this town flaunted

So, the moral of this story is that there is so much more....

Than settling for a shitty pay check, and another jaunt to the liquor store....




Popular posts from this blog

Surfer Girl

She was a surfer girl... Living in a white trash world
With a mix of crips and Lompoc locos
I was a metal head
Surviving in the land of the dead
Washing dishes at the neighborhood Cocos

 Upper echelons and Friday night drink o thons...
Was her life in this little Cali town
Head Banger Ball sing o longs
Skipping classes and loading bongs
Was what kept me in the down and out

The first time I seen her
I wanted to do something obscene with her
But my lack of confidence shut me up
She sat at the front of the class
Blonde, blue eyed and full of sass
She had nothing to do with a fourteen year old pimple faced pup

And as the days passed, I would just dream of her thies
And that bottom crack of her ass, which was always a nice surprise
When walking in late for class
She would pass me by
That smile on her face
Would make me fantasize, it was for me

But it wasn't....
The surfer girl had a skeleton in her closet
When I saw " I love Tom " on her book, I nearly lost it
My friends told me I'd better pause …

Flying Mice and Glowing Orbs

As he lied in bed, with his right leg in the air, a childhood memory surfaced.

   He was seven years old at his home in California. It was the beginning of summer, and he had just returned from his towns annual Flower Festival. He was grinning ear to ear with excitement because he had been waiting for this day to arrive for at least three months, and for a child, three months  can seem like a decade, if not more.

  Other than today’s agenda for him, this festival was the only thing to look forward to, if you were a kid in this sleepy town. It had stuff for the grownups to do, which was pretty much escaping your reality at the local bar, but if you were under the age of puberty, you had to rely on your imagination for entertainment, especially if you were the loner type.

  He wasn’t an outcast or anything. He played with the neighborhood kids, but when it came to fun, or what he considered “real fun” he preferred his own company. He figured out that it was best not to invite any one …

Angels and Demons

Okay, let's take a break from my campfire stories and talk about life.

 "What's the meaning?" is one of those age old questions that I have never been to fond of. It's too vague. I prefer, " What's the meaning of your life?" Why are you still here, and, what has kept you alive throughout all of these years?

Me, being a father and a teacher can sum up my existence with three words.
Protect, teach, and inspire.

Pretty simple, right?

But, to do this I have to follow the path that had been designed for me. And this path is filled with twists and turns, and especially alot of dead ends.

And this is where you will run into the two entities that share the title of this post.

If you are a generally good person the angels will get to you first. And of course if you have led a life of douchbaggery, well you know who you are going to end up going to the prom with.

I've crossed paths with strangers, when my life was not soo peachy. They just came up, dropp…