Perfect Fit

Posted: May 27, 2011 in Uncategorized

CONTEXT: March, 2011

Not much to say about this one. The content is true but it isn’t exactly revelatory or anything. The only thing I really like about this poem is the ‘Rusty-sized hole’ bit.
Other than that, it isn’t terrible, just nothing special.

    Perfect Fit

I grew in a sustained burst
Leaving sports socks exposed
In a seemingly overnight stretch
On the torturer’s rack.
Intriguing high school
Basketball coaches who saw
A 13 year old’s lunge towards
Six feet as a future
Rebound machine,
Only to be disappointed by
The co-experienced
Co-ordination departure
And my body’s general disinclination
To do exactly what I wished it to do.
A walking maypole with his
Feet hanging their
Own length past the end
Of the bed.
Neither I nor my environment
Adapted to each other
And instead co-existed in an
Unhappy amalgam of need.
I didn’t fit.
I just existed.

Falling into an out-of-place
Existence –
Finding others to share
The oxymoronic displacement.
I had heard the words
From the grown-ups –
Talking about genius
And potential, both usually
Led by wasted.
I also heard the words
Of my peers –
Long before geek was
Followed by chic
And brains were
Considered a positive feature
In our extended mating ritual.
I got the downside of a
Rapidly gear-turning brain
Without the upside.
My poor memory meant that
I was recalculating everything
I saw
Yet never speaking up because
I was afraid of my own ignorance,
Forgetting the simplest of
Formula and function
And unable to run with the
Neuron networks who were
Working their cerebral celerity
Into dot com commissions and
The bounty of big business.
I didn’t fit.
I just existed.

I failed to prove I belonged
First at college then
As the universality of my
Experience led me to wonder
Why without knowing
What I was asking.
I wrapped my arms around
My self-image, doing nothing
To develop –
Developing an isntistance
That I was destined for something –
The jobs weren’t compromises
Because dreams were just dreams
And life was life
Any only coincidentally the
Twain should meet.
Another shot at school
With no goal other than any
Bank account injection
And simultaneously discovered
A skill in juggling that
Demands of business and a
Distaste for their methods
And outcomes.
I didn’t fit.
I just existed.

My mother was told by
One of my lesser teachers
That I was missing a life goal
At the age of 12.
25 years later and he
Could have said the same.
I didn’t fit.
I just existed.

And then I found
All of you.
A community of art and love
That considered questioning
A goal in itself
And the need to fall lockstep
In with a societal aligned
Culture to be unnecessary.
And right in the middle of it
Was a Rusty-sized hole
That I didn’t recognize until
I was in it.
It moved with me
Eschewing rigidity
And I learned that sometimes
You don’t find out where you fit
Until you stop looking
And just existing never
Equals living.


CapSlam Finals are Friday, June 10th.

Be there.


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