I visited a high school the other day
Walking past the police car at the door
Into a vestibule cold-camera-watched
Presenting identification at a window

Efficiently buzzed through into a hall
Which stank of aggressive disinfectant
Among the shoalings a poor unhappy girl
Angrily picked her nose and glared at me

And hissed behind my back as I went my way
(It’s all the fault of the teachers, they say)