honea byrne

Memories aren’t memories any more. These things are passwords to chaos. And one of my students was going through something. I said the right/ wrong thing (open to interpretation) and he wants to fight. “DON’T TOUCH ME!” Then the words; damn he sees me as something else. …and a crowd of students is there quick like flies. Damn how did they get out of their classrooms? This is too much. I want to console him. God what is happening? “That’s it I quit! I resign!” The principal came quickly. Took me outside. I’m crying. “Take the rest of the week off. Come back on Monday, see how you feel.” He tells me. I went straight to the VA. Crying saying “I DON’T WANT TO GO BACK!” “You don’t have to go back.” I was so close to cracking. Yet I chose not to because RL Superbad had invited me to jam with him at The King Biscuit Festival in Arkansas . Then I had the Jackson Synergy Nights; where I go every two weeks to recite my poetry. Had to keep on keeping on. So I continued hittin

"I appreciate and am very grateful to have been given the opportunity to have performed in front of representatives of BMI and other professional music representatives. It was a blessing to have that type of exposure. Damn it's so loud. Scares me. Didn't figure the line being this long this early. I don't even have a band. I am not ready for this. I know I don't have a chance. Maybe I should just leave. I'm already here. Feel like that guy who they feel sorry for so they grant favors. Let's clap for the retard. The joke is at my expense. So I figure, "Imma' save some souls tonight," I tell the peers around me. But do I really mean that? Teaching this long I have truly loved these kids as if they are my own. I remember that one in Clarksdale killing someone. Seventeen years old. He'll be in the system lost for a while. They put a red blanket over who he shot. Inside resources say it was gang affiliated and the police are in the gang too (