Junior high school was pretty rough

I was a bright kid

with great potential

& even placed in gifted classes

for us gifted students


but somehow

I just couldn’t manage

to fit in with the crowd

I was different 

from the rest of the pack

I preferred comic books

and fantasies

over the other shit

going on around me


I was a poor kid

not able to adjust to the program

then there was one teacher

that tried to correct my behavior

and make me fit in with everyone else


she was the typical

bleeding heart liberal

pushing politics 

instead of teaching the lessons


she always harped on making us

make up schedules

by which to live our lives


she would criticize decisions

like which TV shows were

a waste of our time



We were just kids but she 

wanted to turn us 

into bleeding hear liberals like her

It was a fucking sham

but few of us really knew it


We couldn’t defend ourselves

or articulate our feelings

about being bullied and ripped

for watching “Laverne & Shirley”


or we were not using our time

doing things she felt was right

for little liberal robots

stripped of their youth.


I barely knew what it all

meant at the time

I was pushed further into my shell

cause it was the only defense I had


Nowadays, kids bring guns

into school for protection or what not

back then we never 

thought of such things

but I survived her bullshit anyway.


And somehow, I managed

to even prosper, grow, thrive

& develop free form poetics


So once in awhile, the good guys

do win the battles and even the war 

and face it,

the world doesn’t need more teachers

like that bullying their students


and even she 

would have to concede

the world needs it’s poets and artists


so here I am, baby,

 without a schedule or a neat notebook

and in spite of the attempted lobotomy

some people actually think

I’m a somewhat decent poet.






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allets's picture

No Neat Notebook

That's cutting it kinda close. A poet and not one neat notebook. Oh, I leafed through some of mine. I get it! :D slc



georgeschaefer's picture

mistakes happen and often

mistakes happen and often later result in poetry