Humans are styrofoam cups, my friend Bradley texts me. Or at least we think we are. When a chunk breaks off, we stretch duct tape over the wound. Bam brand new, shiny and silver. But the cup doesn’t hold water. The styrofoam leaks. Nevermind the half-full/half-empty conundrum. Bradley says we must become glass. 

It’s 12:30 PM. The house is quiet. Except for the ham. Which is sizzling. I’m on the toilet. Such a calm place. Not as calm as the shower. Kate is out with the baby and the dog. I have a job interview in an hour. I feel some nerves. Maybe why I’m on the toilet.

The classroom was on fire today. Was Colin Kaepernick right to take a knee? What’s the difference between Colin Kaepernick and Martin Luther King? When is the right time to stand up? Or kneel? I let the conversation escalate into a debate. After an hour I dismissed class. Smoke plumed out the windows. Desks charred black from students fists. This is education.

The college students are so damn smart, it’s riotous. The website where I’m supposed to take attendance wasn’t working so I said whatever and looked up and said the first thing that came to mind: hey guys listen, y’all should feel comfortable standing up to authority, you know what I mean? Feel comfortable making demands. Feel comfortable saying, for example, excuse me Teacher this class is supposed to be serving me but right now it’s not and that’s not good so we need to reconfigure. Then we slid into Colin K.

This is very deep psychology. A part of us is very scared. Part of us is afraid that the leaders will frown, lift a fist and throw us out of the tribe. Another part of us wants to lead a rebellion. This tribalism runs very deep. 

I need to sea salt my nose rings. Looking a little iffy. Kate ordered me a new rain jacket from eBay. It’s supposed to come today. The ham is deliciously salty. The school I’m interviewing at values disruption. Which is good. Because so do I.

Back to the styrofoam cup. How do we mutate into glass? How do we fuse cracks together? Heat. Fever is how the body fights foreign microbes. Obstacles and struggle are fire forging stronger and stronger metal.

Blah poetry sounds cheap. Even if it’s done well. The real talk isn’t pretty but it’s easy math. Heat=struggle and struggle=eating a shit sandwich. But poetry doesn’t take up shit sandwiches as subject matter. Even though they should. 

Bradley?