SEVENTH GRADE AT MUDSTREAM MIDDLE

—beaten and spat on—
I learned to hate and run
faster, play dumb and study
a pedagogy of ignorance

What? Who? When? NO, NO,
not me. I was busy dripping
into the sewer. What you
taught me? It’s the season

to be muddy, mingle below
creaking leaves, their ver-
million stems and move 
dully without effort. It’s

a waiting game. All things 
will join us. Eyes shorter
now, closer to earth. Rats
and moles still my comrades.