Writer’s Schmuck
By Jovi Rose Pasay, University of Nevada, Las Vegas
CONTENT WARNING: Slight DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE
I’m no threat, don’t take me so seriously.
The only time they tried to stop me is when I
Wrote an essay that read lyrically.
But as a lyricist, I’m incompetent
A juvenile delinquent who just wants to be a novelist
In another life, I could be so rich that I could donate to charity
Money is how I assert my dominance
There’s no time for insecurity
These teachers read me like a psychologist
Like I don’t know how to act right and be confident
When I write these words of regret-
I hope no one tries me to put me in check
I come from a background of financial distress
and working 9 an hour for months at MGM as a waitress
Little did they know, I gulped some alcohol that made my chest a ‘lil warm
Then I picked up a pencil and wrote about some witchery cyborg.
Now, I know you have some questions and I won’t leave you hangin’.
“Jovi, what the hell? Do you even know what you’re sayin’?”
Sit back in your chair kids, let me tell you a ‘lil story.
About the time when I kicked Patty’s face in ‘cause she pinched me ‘til she bursted my artery.
“But Jovi, that’s not relevant!”
“I know! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to go off subject, Mrs. Kotter. I think I’m a ‘lil drowsy.”
“See me after class to write out your damn apology!”
Well, on the way there, I saw Nathan Clayhorn turn the corner
He made his way through me just to make me fall over.
I yelled at him-
“Clayhorn! Imma tear your eyes out your skull so you can’t see me no more! Then imma stab
you in the neck ‘til your blood leaks out on the floor!”
“So what? What’s the difference between me and you? Patty pinched your artery and now you
bully Bobby out the blue.”
He was right,
I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.
It became a cycle,
A destructive reputation that I didn’t want to pursue.
But I’m all grown up now and finally made my first breakthrough.
‘Til this day, I still don’t know what got me into bullying you…
“I’m sorry Bobby, I really am. I hope you can forgive me for all the disrespect.”
He speaks as he exhales through his last cigarette-
“Don’t worry about it, that was years ago.
I’m proud to see you in school.
‘Cause look at me, I work at McDonalds just to get paid.
And thanks to you,
I’ve been brain dead for 8 years since 8th grade!”
