0ff a boat
landing in a chair
at the back;
Vietnam to Utah,
one jungle to another.
But all signs
were foreign
and words, for naught.
Hiding in the girls' room
with tears
and no one to understand.
Laughing held some
hope for me
to make her part.
Those paper wads
dripping and sticky
grabbing the tile
with a smack;
they were just right.
Every smack
brought a crack
of lips that had
been silent.
Enter the custodian.

Exit all the kids,
but me.
The bell was no relief
until my teacher had his say
and my seat held me in
for an extra stay.
Well said Mom
You got what you asked for.
And though she couldn't say
I knew
the laughter was as much
to her as I.