Highschool

"What's all that banging about?!
(My fingers
Impatiently tap

the desk)
Stop that!"

-but the circle-answer-sheet
Grinds me through hellish mind-states
Into momentary fantasies;

We pull up our handkerchiefs
And solidify!
The absurd armed herd,
the shields and armed vehicles
Can never cross this blockade!

But a cloth on a pole

Snapping in the wind

Keeps breaking the dream-

Friction is in the flag;
Stripes and stars are but

Bullet holes and

Prison bars;

My freedom is trapped by that sheet-

So I sit in this perversion;
My education,

Their deceit.