A based-on-reality poem about a boy who blows-up—to the delight of his fellow students—on the last day of classes.
D— you came in wearing your colours
a bright yellow shirt representing Grade 11
at the end of Spirit Week
the last day of school before Spring Break.
The substitute teacher challenged you
big, quiet and awkward you
only to be hammered down with your Jamaican fury
a spicy mixture of wit, bombast and incredulity.
Completely unprecedented
and for no discernible reason whatsoever
you went straight to flaming hot
totally burning the tongue of that poor, hapless sub.
Then when it was over you said,
"You can mark me absent
I'm leaving right now, I can't take any more of this
My name is D— B— and I'm outta here!"
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6 comments:
did you write this?
this is a common scene I think in most schools, a whorl of power struggles everywhere you look.
good stuff.
Yeah, I wrote it. It happened this past Friday in my first period class (I am an E.A.)
Iwas waiting for this guy to explode at the end, like with a bomb or something? Must me all the suicide bombers/land mines/school killings in the news. I'm glad the guy just decided to leave.
yeah, no doubt.
Being a student, I can tell you that I have sympathy to this situation, I know not the student nor teacher nor circumstance, but I will say, when you take away the small dignity a student has in a classroom you have only to look forward to anger, this is where I question the logic, and the humanity in some teachers I have come across.
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