tofurkey day

yesterday was thanksgiving
or
national culturally imposed assimilation day

i am sitting in a house in virginia
next door there is a sign that says
"save yourself for jesus"
which is a block down from the
guns n' amo shack

after my grandmother explained to me that native americans had not done anything with the land so it was ok that we stole it from them because they needed help and civilization
she asked me to do the monkey impersonation
which involves a lot of spastic jumping and high pitched squeeling
and that made the dog bark and pee
in that order
fortunately
i was wearing socks
unfortunately
my mom was not
fortunately
she was three glasses of wine in and did not notice

four vegetarian explanations and three communist rants later
i am happily curled up in bed with the dog
who was not allowed to drink any more water
full belly
dry socks
it's a good day

phi

i have a new found appreciation for numbers

which is funny because

in school when i was smaller

i hated them

loathed them

i feel comfortable saying they were the bane of my existence

no really

they'd turn into spastic monkeys running amuck in my already "sorry overhead compartments are full those will have to fit snugly under the seat in front of you" brain 

later i would find out that the cramped room in my number section was actually a mild form of 

mathematical dyslexia which is really just more collateral damage from my not-so-cool-a-story concussion 

("i fell in the shower" is strikingly less romantic than 

"i was hit by a car when i was attempting to save an orphan and her three legged dog" 

but what can you do? life has no sense of the dramatic)

and now i sit here and wish my math and science teachers were curious

i know high school students are sometimes miserable 

and sometimes bored

but i think we would have felt less of both if we saw the beauty

and if we actually believed that you

teacher

cared as much as you did when you were small

but we saw your dim eyes and disappointment

so we played up to it

because we

too 

were tired

rose, the last supper, the stars, ancient greece, love and how we see it and find it in one another

if you told us that everything above this line is irrevocably tied with numbers

well

one number really

well then i think the monkeys in my head would have momentarily postponed their running amuck

hell

they may have even stopped throwing feces

which is

let's face it

an effective method of getting one's point across 

despite the obvious health hazard 

but teachers 

despite your obvious lack of passion and love 

and 

more importantly

endurance

i have reclaimed my love of numbers

because in the end

poetry

art

music

our hearts

can all be reduced to numbers

to phi

and equations

mostly phi

because that is the ratio of beauty and love and hope

because it's the artist's ratio

it's the bridge for us

for them

but 

still

you teachers

all of you

please do not give up

on those of us that have monkeys inside

fight it

this pain is horrible.

anyone telling you different hasn't felt it.

and that sucks.

undeniably. 

this invisible pain is horrific in its silence.

but

don't fall into it.

fight it.

fight it with every thing you have in you.

fight it with fists clenched and eyes burning.

fight it with the abandon of a mad woman's howling battle cries.

fight it because you have nothing left.

fight it because you will not be silenced.

fight it loudly.

demand it.

proclaim it.

scream and shake if you have to but damn it fight because if you let the pain come in it will claw its way out dragging every piece of love and strength you have left out with it.

so fight it.

find a reason to want to fight it and fight.

go on a soul odyssey if you have to but find a reason to wake up and go into battle again.

it is worth it.

this life that we have is worth it.

it is beautiful. it is ugly. it is ecstasy and it is soul crushing.

and it is worth it.

because it is ours.

so fight it.

fight it.

fight it.

history was made today

and i read books in a room aside from the broadcasts

swamped with work

and confident

that finally

good would happen

on the grand scale

even while

my little life

was all a mess

hurray for the generosity of the universe

for giving a country hope
and delivering on the promise

of setting me free
even if letting the bonds off
hurt like a band aid
being ripped from my heart