a greater crime than parricide.

Tonight was the my first night
back at stupid plumbing class
down at the union hall.
It was just an orientation session
for designating schedules and doling out books
so we got out two hours early
but it still managed to leave me sour.

The coordinator of the apprenticeship program
a fake-tanned Italian man of fifty-five with a penchant
for fine scotch, expensive cigars, and leather blazers
was speaking in front of the fifty or so apprentices.
In his feeble attempt at professionalism
he mentioned an exam that the class about
to graduate from the five-year apprenticeship program
can take in order to receive an associates degree
in our trade, which is essentially useless
though it'd look good tacked to a wall next to a dirty calendar.
Only two members of our local can take the test per year
so it's up to the intructors to decide whom to nominate
from the unenthusiastic list of potential candidates.

Someone sitting in one of the front rows tonight
mentioned how no one went to take the test
last year anyway, implying that it's a waste of time.
The same heckler said that the one kid who would've gone
last year is the one who died in a car accident
after a night of heavy drinking at a Mexican restaurant.

That's when the feet started entering the mouths.
"Yeah, maybe he would've gone," said the coordinator
in his best Joe Pesci impersonation voice
"but that was yet to be determined by the instructors.
I just said that at the kid's funeral to make his mother
feel good."

I couldn't believe he had the nerve to say something
so audacious in front of the peers of the deceased.
It turned my stomach instantly and a buddy of mine
and I glanced sideways at each other simultaneously.
I didn't know the kid personally, but I recognized
the name when I heard of his passing
and came to find out that he was the older brother
of someone I went to elementary school with
who gave me a bookbag full of his older brother's toys
that are rolling around in my mother's shed somewhere.
We're reminded how small a world it is on a daily basis.

And on nights like tonight I'm reminded
of how cruel a world it can be
even amongst us alleged "brothers".

If they ever threaten to take my card
on account of my doing what I have to in order
to make a buck, scabbing it up on weekends and such
I'll tell them to make sure
to let that same prick do the talking
at my hearing so I can respectfully remind him
who dies in "Goodfellas," and why.