Attitude Adjustment

On St. Patrick’s birthday

I walked myself down Oakland Avenue

wearing a green sweater both ironically and intentionally—an action

indicative of something 

my father would call 

“a bad attitude”

 

And God, did I feel lousy.

 

It was the discovery of pink earrings in my pocket

And some bite marks on my neck

and a pair of Hawaiian shirts hung in my closet

that had led me to undergo a serious reconsideration

of my future career choices

 

Specifically:  Any plans I had for ever making my own people.

 

But I brightened up

when

at a corner stop-light

an angel clad only in holy underwear

substantiated in an idle Buick La Sabre

and before disappearing

entrusted me with permanent custody of her Milwaukee Brewer’s t-shirt

which she tossed at my face through an open window.