mmmcccxci

kittens grow up to be tigers

     two bits, four bits
     six bits, a dollar,
     all for the tigers
     stand up and holler!
           —a cheer i remember from high school

we are having a conversation
about mascots because i’m
wearing a t-shirt with a
tiger on it that, i
tell him, “could
have come from the
football field or the basket
ball court of my youth. high
school.” it’s important i add
high school. mascots come
from anywhere, don’t they,
but aren’t they usually from
high school or college, part
icularly associated with team
sports, right? assigned often to a
school or institution on the whole, yes?
i had fallen asleep on my broken chair
for something like two hours, and when
i woke up i felt not only upset to have
missed the two hours but also a little
violated. i had one of the two avoca
dos that i brought back from the
doctor’s office – yes, for
whatever reason, and
this part is not a dream,
i assure you, i had brought
a heavy bag filled with fruits
and vegetables from the doctor’s
office, where i had an appointment
earlier this afternoon. the nurse literally
said “you know, you get your prescriptions
from your doctors, well, this is your food
prescription,” that’s what she said. i was
a bit giddy over the prospect of going
through whatever was in the heavy
bag when i got home (which i did,
and the first thing i was to bring
out of the bag: blackberries. i
ate the entire carton of them,
did not even get up to wash
them first, they were so
sweet and so perfect).
there was a slit in one
of my avocados and i asked
you if it was okay, what i should
do about it, whether you thought it
might be good to eat – you seem to
love avocados are always talking about
adding them to this, that or the other. you
seemed a little bit nonplussed at my asking,
but said it should be fine, you suggested
peeling it a certain way, but i was already
eating it right out of the green, leathery
skin, avoiding the pit, the seed, that
object in the middle that i took
many years ago from another
avocado someone had
peeled and eaten or
cooked with or
made guacamole
dip with, and hung
with toothpicks over
an open container of
water, the nut barely
touching the water,
where i lived at the
time, i was in under
graduate school, our
mascot was, oh, we
were the warriors,
there weren’t a lot
of sports at my un
dergraduate college,
and the seed inevit

ably grew roots that

swirled about in the
water, so then i planted
it in actual soil and i
remember keeping the
plant i grew from the pit
of an avocado for quite
some time, probably
hauling it to the first
lonely apartment in which
i lived by myself, this was
in downtown little rock, and
it was there in that lonely
apartment that my avocado
plant most probably bit the
dust. anyway, as i scoop and
eat the absolutely delicious
fruit of the avocado, you
mention something about
being careful not to get
avocado hands. my hands
have clumps of little green
avocado, and i have to re
ply that it’s too late, but
you say something else
that gives me the impress
ion that avocado hands is
more of an affliction, not
just hands messy with av
ocado. i take note, but
don’t worry at all, think
ing how splendid the taste
and, once it’s all gone,
the after-taste is in
my mouth. i wonder
like i sometimes do
about various foods,
why i don’t eat more
of them, don’t buy
them fresh and bring
them home and enjoy
them on the spot like
i just did today thanks
to the nurse at my
doctor’s office. i
look down at the
tiger on the belly
of my shirt, a
shirt belly that
i’d love to lose
some of, and i
think about mas
cots and cheer
leaders and
football games
and basketball
games i’d go to
because i was in
the band, and i
continue the con
versation as if we
didn’t leave it for
quite some while,
venturing even in
other directions as
we did; i say, “it
really reminds me
of my youth. the tiger
being my childhood mascot,”
and then i think, looking further
back toward childhood, “high school
(junior high it was, appropriately, kittens.)”
to which you reply, “kittens? school mascots?”
and i just respond, as if not really hearing you,
“inert tigers in a way. babes in the world of tiger land.”
and then i get up from my broken and wobbly chair, the
one i’ve been asleep for two hours in, and i just transfer
myself over to my bed, where i read a few pages from a new
book of poetry that i’ve picked up this afternoon – “something
for everybody” by anselm berrigan – and i bring my laptop, approp
riately enough, onto my lap, and i write these few words that i’ve written,
which i will post soon, passing them along to whomever might wander by,
glance over some of the words, or stay to read it through to the end, in
either case, i’m happy you’re here, thank you so much for the company.