Geraniums Are Easy

Geraniums Are Easy

In elementary school, I remember
the geraniums on the window sill, and
I hated them because they were
always there and needed no care.

I don’t know why
as a child then
I didn’t kill myself, because
I was dirt. Except that
my teacher seemed to
love me though
I knew that the kids
knew I was worthless, and

they butchered my thoughts,
but She wondered why
I weeped, but as asinine teachers do
she never asked my idiot parents why
they were so ashamed of me, even though
she loved me. Yes I know that teachers
are taught to be oblivious — yeah, it’s
part of the union contract.

Of course, it
could have been much simpler.

And now I am stuck
with the reality of
impossibility, and a stench of being

Every promise is gone
and I am sad beyond Dad.

Tell me why I
am nothing.

Tell me why I
am unloved
though I

could have loved
the any curiosity
that was beautiful to me
as if I were a person, and
probably I’m not.

I think when I was 10, I
thought of myself as a person.

But then I learned
I was a stupid student

And so I died
and never recovered.

They ridiculed me
when I wanted to
invent something new, because

I’m an idiot
actually.

So never will I do
anything better than
a geranium.

I know where my heart is;
I know where my knife is.

— Douglas Gilbert

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