they knew
it mattered
their words
would reach
her somehow.
they fretted
their efforts
would fail
garbled syntax
misspellings
erratic punctuation
some had
written nothing
all year
but she
was different
they couldn’t
disappoint her
words
I couldn’t
read but
could feel
sputtered out
the heat
of them
glowed like
cinders
she had
guided them
to a
clearing carved
out in
their hearts
I keep repeating the name several times
No one speaks
Our divorce was like that,
Abigail
I called your name and got
no answer
People just disappear
but traces remain
Your wedding dress hangs in the attic
over a bin of baby toys
This child’s name will stay on my roster for months
a ghostly semblance
until one day it will be gone
like our son’s legos and hot wheels
we donated to goodwill
Another boy is dreaming with them now
speeding a car down a plastic road
forever
Cleaning my room
feels like
I’m destroying the evidence
before parents arrive
no signs of my imminent collapse
not a sheet of paper
out of place
The bloodshot eyes?
I’ll blame pollen
“Welcome!” I’ll say warmly,
“I promise not to shoot myself
before the school years ends.”
They’ll be delighted
by this news
some might offer to help
clean up the mess afterwards
“No, no,” I’ll explain,
“I’ll be in the tub. Much neater that way.”
The key to becoming an effective
teacher
is planning planning planning
Three adults in a conference room
sit at an oval table
contemplating the life of a child
“Mr K, how’s she doing in history?”
asks the counsellor
No other teachers showed up
Just me
We called on the intercom, none came
The mother’s hopeful eyes come to rest on
mine
Two days since I’ve shaved
Three hours of sleep
The mother is wearing a blue smock
and a badge
RNA at a nursing home
Took time off to come down here
The other teachers
have given up
I wish I could because I don’t know what to say
“Well, she asks some very perceptive questions in class.”
Once she spoke, months ago
She demanded to know if Jefferson had
raped
Sally Hemmings
Yes, I’d replied
he did rape her
Slaves couldn’t give consent
She nodded her head as though finally the world made sense to her
and there was nothing else left to learn
Ok class
pay attention
this is important
I haven’t been with anyone
in bed
for 14 years
None of you were alive then
She was merciful
quiet
divorced
I told her I wanted to be a teacher
She brightened
more alive
than when I was
in her
“You should totally do it!”
Two layoffs later, and I had no other choice
The roads that bring us to our fate are many and the one you dread the most
travels in the straightest line
Lee Irby is a Fellow in Florida Studies at the University of South Florida. He is the author of three novels, all published by Doubleday. Life then demanded he devote himself to poetry.
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