Sister I’m a poet.

I was thinking on my drive home, trying to switch into “dad” mode while remaining rooted in “academic” mode so I could possibly write a paper this weekend (D. Smith had this so right…). I was listening to a Morrissey B-Side comp, and thinking to myself after hearing these words for the millionth time, how much they have shaped me: Here is a log of my thoughts listening to a Morrissey-solo comp I made Jane a few weeks ago, but have been reluctant to give her because of how perfectly I constructed it (the only ego I have left since 2005, the year of the beast, is for my construction of perfect mix CD’s and doing Karaoke to Elvis Costello’s “Allison”).


We plied an ancient trade
Where we threw all life’s
Instructions away
Exchanging lies and digs (my way)
Cause in a belted coat
Oh, I secretly knew
That I hadn’t a clue

We should put this lyric on a coffee mug or a poster with two kitties that just got the spray bottle for walking over the keyboard. This lyric has been my motto since grad school. Think about it.


with no reason
To hide these words I feel
And no reason
To talk about the books I read
But still I do

I can correctly identify why someone would hate Morrissey. I can think of many factors, and my love for him wanes throughout the year. However, when I start up again, it is always because I get caught up in the story he is telling me. His lyrics are so good, so personal, and are about me. I always talk to people about the books I read. In fact, my favourite part about University is that all the quallies and quanties are forced to read the same books, thrown into a room and forced to talk about them. This brings me glee..

And I wonder
Does anybody feel the same way I do ?
And is evil just something you are
Or something you do ?

Then I wondered about how much of my thoughts are in my own voice, or if I am just regurgitating Steven Patrick back at people for fun (and profit… mostly profit).

The kind people
Have a wonderful dream
Margaret On The Guillotine
Cause people like you
Make me feel so tired
When will you die ?

A list of people I wished were on the Guillotine instead of Margaret…. as if. I study the Internets people, I know better than this. (read this for why.)

Oh, you look so tired
Mouth slack and wide
Ill-housed and ill-advised
Your face is as mean
As your life has been

I wonder if my beard makes me look mean? I feel very tired on Fridays, and I am usually in bed by 10pm. Obviously tonight is the exception. I went to Borat again…

Won’t somebody stop me
From thinking
From thinking all the time
About everything
Oh, somebody
From thinking all the time
So deeply, so bleakly ?
So bleakly all the time

I like it when I drive Katie to Shit City because it gives me someone to talk to so I can take a thinking-rest for a couple hours. I like this lyric because this is usually what I think about when I am trying to go to sleep.

Our frank and open
Deep conversations
They get me nowhere
They bring me down, so

There are certain people I wish I didn’t have to talk to on a daily basis, but have to for a variety of reasons. There is a real part of me that just wants to be alone, and never talk to anyone ever. I was also thinking about how rad some of the people in my cohort are – I am in love with my cohort.

I’ve changed my plea
I’ve changed my plea to guilty
Because freedom is wasted on me
See how your rules spoil the game

I really need to get caught up in my RA hours… ugh.

So : the choice I have made
May seem strange, to you
But who asked you, anyway ?
It’s my life to wreck
My own way

“Sociology? What are you going to do with that?” “I am doing my PhD, I’m going to be a professor.” “Of what?”

Now I’ve had enough
I’ve had more than could be
My rightful share
Of nights I can’t bear
How can it be fair ?
Time must wipe them out

Should read “Time must wipe them stats exams out ”


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