Bosco High School.
In the video Bosco II and in this piece, no names were changed to protect anyone.
I liked high school but I have regrets.
I wish I spent more time with the musicians and artists in high school than I did with the jocks and drinkers. Most of the time I walked among the cliques like a ghost. A drunk ghost with perfect teeth.
I wish I had thrown punches at seniors (rather than cowering in a corner) when Ron G. from St. C. brought his Ska band out at a lunch time rally and received apple bombs from the idiot seniors. Assholes. Where are those apple throwers now? Who cares? Ron is a professor in S.D., bitches.
Bosco had some great teachers that need a shout. Mrs. Eddy, you class-act, thank you for taking my "mad-lib" English to the next level. Sorry I never took it further. You were kind of a distraction at our all-boy school.
Mr. Stover, you were a brilliant man. Sorry about my "Ode to Muscle Cars" poetry series. I couldn't stop myself. Thanks for the "B+". We both know that was a stretch.
Mr. Moss, are you still teaching? I can't believe the things you said to our sophomore class. I loved the last five minutes of your class when you broke out the tattered journal. Your poetry scared the hell out of me but I LOVED it.
Hope you are well. "Here's a picture of a thirteen year old girl peeing in a stream". Straight from the vein of Bukowski or Ray Carver. Vein wazza poor choice a wurds.
Brother Noel. You are probably dead now. You will be remembered.
I'm glad I went to school there.
I'm thankful I made it out of there.
I'll never go back.
I have regrets.