Glass (Crank 2)

Mom says he wandered in late

to my baptism, dragging

Kristina along, both of them

wearing the stench of monster

sweat. Monster, meaning crystal

meth. They’d been up all night,

catching a monstrous buzz.

It wasn’t the first time

they’d partied together. That

was in Albuquerque, where dear

old Gramps lives, and where

Kristina met the guy who popped

her just-say-no-to-drugs cherry.

Our lives were never the same

again, Mom often says. That

was the beginning of six years

of hell. I’m not sure how we all

survived it. Thank God you were

born safe and sound. . . .

All my fingers, toes, and a fully

functional brain. Yadda, yadda . . .

Well, I am glad about the brain.

Except when Mom gives me

the old, What is up with you?

You’re a brilliant kid. Why do

you refuse to perform like one?

A C-plus in English? If you would

just apply yourself . . .

Yeah, yeah. Heard it before.

Apply myself? To what?