when I was 12 years old

and still not a man

my father decided

it was best if I had a tutor

who would teach me math

and other learnings one needs

in order to become

a productive member of the society

the tutor had big translucent glasses

probably jaded with use

he was jaded too, but in a good way

he taught me algebra, quadratic equations,

geometry, trigonometry and other

gnarly things

but then he talked about kings, and their battles

the men who died, the women who ruled

and the shenanigans of bards and poets

for a moment, he seemed like a bard too

with dreads and a ukelele

but he never taught me about love, or women

or loneliness or things I would think about

when I am older

I wish he had taught me why he was so jaded

and teaching 12 year olds

gnarly, other worldly things,

disguised as sums and graphs

every evening at 5.30

an hour a day, five days a week.

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