1965
there is noise
stuck in your teeth
from chewing out children all day
there is fascism
stuck under your nails
from passing out grammar textbooks
there is competition
stuck in your crotch
from watching lunchtime sports
there is violence
stuck in your buttocks
from sitting through oratorical presentations on friendship
and American Idol runners-up, sitting through assemblies celebrating
murderous
grandparents who can barely take their bow while cadets faint from the
heat and
boys impress girls with words like “nice” and “sweet,” sitting through
PA
announcements rescheduling the Youth For Christ meeting like it matters
and
reminding everyone to come out tonight to support a team of big-boned,
misogynistic in-school suspension specialist Vikings because they’re
putting on
pads and mesh jerseys for this particular slaughter, sitting through
student ‘yo
mama’ jokes and faculty anecdotes about pets, sitting through stop
motion
projects that were supposed to be essays and essays that were supposed
to
establish more than the author’s learning disorder, sitting through the
ratty
mustached boy’s blatant application of his own snot to every reachable
surface,
sitting through it all and knowing
there is love
stuck in your heart
from 1965