by Brian Wilkins
At Thomas Paine Elementary the teachers’ desks
buckle beneath illegal letter-pressed pamphlets
and every ten minutes a child mounts a chair
to declare the rights of man. Detention
and suspension fail—they tried that at Nathan Hale
and the fourth grade, jumping one by one from the slide,
cried, “I regret I have but one life to give for my classmates.”
“Who named these schools” the Vice-Principal riddles
at Sam Adams Middle where the spitballs hide rocks
& the students sport glued temporary tattoos
of the liberty tree. It’s a mystery, even to
the history teacher at George Santayana High
who spends second period discussing the first
and so on and so on, until it all repeats again
& revolution is whispered locker to locker each fall.
Brian Wilkins is 1/2 the genius that created Scarab.
At Thomas Paine Elementary the teachers’ desks
buckle beneath illegal letter-pressed pamphlets
and every ten minutes a child mounts a chair
to declare the rights of man. Detention
and suspension fail—they tried that at Nathan Hale
and the fourth grade, jumping one by one from the slide,
cried, “I regret I have but one life to give for my classmates.”
“Who named these schools” the Vice-Principal riddles
at Sam Adams Middle where the spitballs hide rocks
& the students sport glued temporary tattoos
of the liberty tree. It’s a mystery, even to
the history teacher at George Santayana High
who spends second period discussing the first
and so on and so on, until it all repeats again
& revolution is whispered locker to locker each fall.
Brian Wilkins is 1/2 the genius that created Scarab.
