In praise of Temple Grandin, whose lack of success in my life eluded me.

Unbeknownst to me, I experienced a genuine heart wrenching reaction after watching An Open Door the international award-winning documentary that reflects on the influential life and work of Dr. Temple Grandin as a champion of the humane treatment of livestock, autism rights, and inclusive neuro-diversity by employing her gifted insights from her personal experience with autism and visual thinking.

Similar to your progressive mother, the writer of these words prides his parents for proving a loving home for myself and two sisters, one older and one younger, yet absent supportive intervention did not exist during my arduous ability to cope with adjusting to our move (February 28th, 1968) from Lantern Lane in Audubon to Route Delivery #2 Collegeville, the geographical distance between the two approximately a half dozen miles, which distance necessitated attending Eagleville Elementary. When I barely got promoted to third grade, I attended Henry Kline Boyer until graduating after sixth grade. Through all the primary schools situated within Lower Providence, I struggled with most all classes even throughout Junior and Senior Methacton High School. In retrospect my behavior most like on the (high functioning) Autistic spectrum.

Though college educated (my Associate's Degree) completed across three decades, which never got integrated with very sporadic employment history, whereat most employers placed me on probation and subsequently terminated this employee, who could never increase quantity and quality within production oriented environment, and eventually qualified for social security disability as the sole source of income to support expenses accrued courtesy myself and wife, who also deals with mental health issues and does not work.

Yup
according to us
(thyself and wife),
hypothetically our eldest offspring
and eventual star student
would have responded
(if she traveled
back to the future
from her current residence
in Brooklyn, New York)
after she got born
December 22nd, 1996,
would have stated just suck it up
an American idiom
urging someone
to endure pain, hardship,
or an unpleasant situation
without complaining,
which when yours truly
id est me a little boy,
and analogous to a pup
abandoned by the mother
or strayed into the maws of starvation
barely survived by pulling
oneself up by the bootstraps
signifying a need for resilience,
and accepting difficult realities,
often used as a directive
to stop complaining
and finish a task
thus faith no more in latent abilities,
and F's and X's most popular
with an absolute zero grade point average.

I floundered horrifically
like a fish out of water
all the way thru
the public education system
an understatement,
which now offers me
an opportunity to be witty
when essentially efforts
with cognitive experiences
and other than
failing marks quite sh*tty
never mastering
effective study habits and nitty
gritty nose to
the figurative grindstone hitty-
missy: An adjective meaning
inconsistent, unpredictable,
or hit-or-miss,
but when lady luck
smiled against all odds -
oh how sweet I relished
avoiding getting myself
in what for sure
forebode being in a pickle,
and upon unexpectedly
experienced salvation and
as gratitude for
being rescued exuding
and exhibiting alacrity.

While watching
a recent documentary populated
where how most everybody praised thee,
as an outstanding Homo sapien
within the human zoo,
I could not help but become
moist around mine eyes
listening to accolades about you
an amazing individual who
with a maternal advocate
(your mother), a dogsend too
many adjectives to list,
she blessedly did poo poo
and strongly object with your father
(a man without
the realization of potential),
he wanted to send
his autistic daughter
to an institution and knew
would not even entertain
and vehemently eschew
alternative modus operandi
to tap into a wellspring
of your unrealized
and unrivaled hidden potential,
how thee perceived
the webbed wide world in pictures
unlike myself, whose
interpretation gets processed with words
(an insight that came
to my realization
during the second half
of my three and seven years -
and if born today yours truly (me),
would earn a living
wage writing poetry,
but these days
the love of English language
an avocation bandied
when I seek an opportunity
to attempt to express
emotions, ideas,
outstanding unexpected
psychologically powerful scenarios
such as watching kudos
heaped upon thee
(a modest woman,
who lets actions speak
louder than words),
and no matter your humility
disallows feeling superior
and holier than thou
rather embraces the feeling
of all creatures great and small,
plus wise and wonderful
as I too adopted the credo
that my existence no greater
nor lesser than other living things,
and matter of fact
even killing swarms
of fruit flies within
our one bedroom apartment
here at Highland Manor
affects me with self aversion.

Upon death do me part,
I will get cremated.