Every night before I go to sleep
I turn in two job applications
for jobs I don’t want but need
to get jobs I think I might want
and maybe I’ll get to that position finally one day
thirty years down the line
and wish that I would have studied biology
geometry geography philanthropy psychology anthropology
anything but English.
The day I decided to major in English —
as if it was groundbreaking news —
I left my community college introductory writing course
having read only an excerpt of Paradise Lost
intent on revealing
some revolutionary information to my grandma (gma, that is.)
Mind you, she was the only person I ever knew to perch for
hours on end
on her red and beige floral recliner chair
and finish a (probably not that significant or even interesting)
novel in one day.
A fellow reader.
Anyways, I drove from class to tell gma and
in my excitement my mother interrupted with a call,
asking me to drive straight to gma’s (grandma’s, she said.)
Which, honestly, annoyed me, as if I weren’t already.
I hung up and five minutes later when I got to the end
(beginning) of the road leading home
(gmas was/is my home), I noticed a police officer waiting at the
blind corner of our cross street and though, finally, someone is
enforcing the speed limit
now I don’t have to worry about myself or my family getting
t-boned by speeding cars.
This was a selfish appreciation of their presence
in the right place at the right time, which reminded me to
remember
- want to study english
- cops at the corner because she would like that
So I continued on the road that I still know like etc back of my hand
drove up a hill down a hill around a corner and what not
through the opening of our white barnyard fence past the first
oak tree (gone now) past the second oak tree (still there)
underneath a third oak tree (cut down)
I already say my family at the first oak tree but only really saw
them —
all of the members I don’t know and subsequently don’t like
(Because they never cared to know me, and this is my house.)
I got out of my 2003 silver Saturn as my mom walked up to hug me
and, well,
long story short I fell to the asphalt in tears already down my neck
without a work spoken, as all of the family I dislike watched
and as gpa expected and my mother needed
me to be strong
but I missed my opportunity to tell the one person I wanted
needed to tell and expected to appreciate that I, too,
want to sit perched in a chair and read books for the rest of my life.
Just like she did.