Chemistry Not Apparent

When the rain starts and when
The days boiling down to the scraping
Caked on-shit that I get tired of staring at
I have curious memories
Of some frizzy-brown-haired Italian-US woman
With daggers in her eyes
With jeans that rode tightly and confidently
On her ass
Even though her prisms of worldview had deteriorated.
She was a firebomb of Italian Intensity
I am a sleepy and purple-clouded one of the same .
I can remember her storming out
Her head frazzled by moldy memories
Of trauma
She jumped on the common nasty motif
Of my life with the female set
“We just don’t have any CHEMISTRY!”
And then I laughed
It was the pornography of “gotcha” moments
I laughed till my ribs split and my pants were wet
I laughed till I damaged my diaphragm
But she kept going about how we were two different people
With truly different alkaloids and enzymes
And I almost toppled on the slippery floor and
Doubled up with goofball delirium
For we had a lot of chemistry in fact
Same DNA
Same mother
But she flashed in her eyes in a way that scorched my chosen life
Teaching and academics
And her fuck you eyes screeched that I must have killed a million babies somehow in my righteously conservative path chasing a degree and standing in classrooms.
“You goddamn asshole!” she roared.
She continued standing with poison dagger-eyes
Convinced that I was the incarnation of true evil.
She inevitably tried to shatter the chemistry we had coursing through her veins
Bus she could not do more than disown it, DNA being a stubborn kind of entity.
That was five years ago today.
She would have liked to crackle me beneath her feat
The thorox
Metamophiclean
There are 50 five-paragraph essay scripts on my desk to contend with now
The shit has been scraped and the memory goes backstage
So that I can keep sitting here with my red pens and my rubrics
Butchering innocents
And gearing up to commit more atrocities.