For my English III class
Mr. P
had sprawled out
S
T
A
C
K
S
of books in t h e front of his
classroom.
He had a short lecture and introduction to blackout poetry, then
everyone shot out of their chairs to find a page they wanted
I was the last to go up, the first book I found had a beautiful picture and I decided to use it
Months later
the assignment was completed and in the gradebook, he said if we wanted we could keep them
Now as I lay in my room at 2:34 AM on a
Friday I sit and think about it.
It wasn't long ago when I created it,
but it also had been enough time for me to leave the public school entirely to could be
homeschooled
The only thing I regret was not saying goodbye to him
in person
And getting that poem
I can't get my mind off of it, of everything.
So now I just write in weird, confusing ways to explain
To get my words out down