An Education

I would just like to point out that although this will show up as being posted on Wednesday, it is being written on Tuesday, and thus I am still holding to my post-a-day thing. That's all. Let's get obtuse. 


Get an education,
she said, as she looked at me seriously
over the top of dinner,
the stove-top that she'd stood over
for almost every evening that
she'd fed me.
The mealy-mouthed discards
of a day spent with finger paints,
or sand in shoes,
or pointless giggling.
Get an education.

I don't care where my children go,
or what they do in life,
she said,
over the top of breakfast.
That kitchen table hastily laden
with the paraphernalia
of a well-lived life,
the dog-hairs heavy in the air,
and a cigarette within arm's reach.

Just so long as you take that gift,
and that love of reading,
she said, as she picked me up from school,
almost old enough to walk,
not entrusted to the bus.
Thoughts already turning to the bright lights
and flashing sounds
of my latest and greatest infatuation.
That plastic, monochrome god
of mine.

Tertiary education is the place for you,
you've got a brain,
she said,
after I explained to her some history,
some poetry or some pedagogy -
something I picked up at her knee,
but impressive nonetheless.
I had a way with words,
she said.

She said that for years.
I'm glad I listened.
From such a rock, certainty is formed.
I might squander whatever talent I possess,
and I might waste my time with vampires
and smoke-filled lungs,
and pressed flesh.
But I got an education.

Thanks.