5.6.11

Life is Life

I can never get my words quite right
when I write notes to people.
I can't convey things correctly
in a prose-like correspondence.
And so I am disappointed in my
note to my very dearest latin teacher.
I think it would be easier to hug her, instead.

It's a horrible thing that such a lovely person
like her got so utterly screwed over.
I cannot express my discontent with
the schoolboard and the principal and the
world in a civilized, non-profane manner.
She's one of the niftiest people
I've had the pleasure of knowing.
And she may just be the best teacher I've
ever had.
And possibly ever will.
Generally, she's just a great person.
It absolutely kills me that she can no longer
teach me Latin at Hayes.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is:

I love you, Magistra.

Fuck you Delaware City Schools.

And yeah, yeah, I shouldn't say that.
I hear that stuff can get people
suspended.
But. People do it all the time.
And actually, yes, that is exactly
what I want to say.
There's no milder alternative.
That's it.
In simple language.

Because maybe some things need to
carry the intensity they're supposed to
in this watered-down, censor-filled world,
something ought to be raw and full of
feeling.