Bus Poem #1

And so she sits

Mouth open in youthful distaste of

anything closed

She holds

a bag of chili cheese Frito’s

school is drool without a snack or two.

She knows there’s work to bring home

but the mismatched laces

the strangely brown pants with

purple shirt reading

“are you kitten me”

don’t care.

They feel the air

of recess and princess and

driving a firetruck through a city of crumbling cookies

ignoring the looming cloud of a middle aged woman

who never wanted to teach such brats

who seems strange with her baggy eyes and flighty smile

we listen to her because she’s teacher

she looks like she has problems worse than long division but

what could a grown up worry about?

Did she lose the answer key? Aren’t they all in her brain?

I’m scared to tell her I don’t know how to retie my big dumb laces

the loops never end up with the right faces

and look crooked like Jared’s teeth before he got braces

She wants them all to listen and repeat

but all the little girl wants is to go home early

so she can draw the elephants in different hats

on the iPad before her brother gets home and

uses it to watch his fighting videos

I worry about their teeth.

If they’re such babies that they need to hit each other as hard as they can

maybe they should have kept their little teeth longer

so they can still look good for interviews. 

I hope no one made fun of her, for all those colors.

I hope it bloomed a new conversation of confusion and trust

like someone saw a shade of green they’ve only seen one time–


My daddy had a lime last night and it didn’t look like those. 

Maybe just cuz these are flat and his was round. 

did you step out all the juice?

I don’t know. When I put them on it was raining. 


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