| THE DAY GEOMETRY FUCKED ME |
| by C. Allen Rearick |
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| (April 27th,, 2004) |
| I never knew I'd use obtuse angles again, nor did my ninth period geometry teacher's grotesque eyes mention I'd need theorems and proofs in a twenty dollar debate against false cocaine promises and an air-hockey table turned traitor. My white-washed heart has been awake for hours; stock-car pacing past twiddling thumbs and crooked smiles. But it's alright 'cause in two hours the eight a.m. morning sun will dye this grey smoke lined basement a fire orange; melting my vampire skin and leaving my eyes a 1969 burning river. And I know Wayne Gretzky is somewhere laughing with all his trophies over the fact that I can't explain icing or score four come from behind goals to beat this friday night addiction. |
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