A poem for my AP Lit class. We were assigned to write about our high school experience and thoughts on being a senior (I know I'm a senior!), but I stretched the topic a bit. Oops. Well at any rate...
In trigonometry last year, my name was vacuum cleaner
Because I sucked
and puckered my lips in disgust like a lemon eater
We each have our mess as I should have known
Maybe then I could have been shameless in asking
For help in solving those darn inverse equations
I referred to freshmen seminar as the “unsharpened pencil in my side”
Because it was oh so dull
and thought to myself with self-righteous pride
That after watching paint dry it must be boring task No. 2
It was two years later when I finally learned
To look for the edgier corners and sides
My friends in the hallways always called me space
Because that is where I go
Or so they say, though I might never know
I hum between classes under my breath
and seem too distracted to consider the homework question
Though I swear I don’t try to be rude
I’m not sure what titles I will take and give this year
Because I am not clairvoyant
And though I would fancy the symbol and status
Of being a great prophet or wise oracle
I’m quite content to ride these bumps and bends
By the end of this year, you never know what I might know by then
