First Grade Ferocious
It was the most ferocious time of my life,
I was angry all the time.
Angry at breakfast.
Angry during lunch.
Angry at supper.
I was angry because my teacher had a pact with my mom.
I was to wear a mitt on my left hand for the year at school,
so I could not use that "wrong hand".
In the 50's that's how we "cured" left-handedness.
That was sixty years ago, and I still remember that
ugly gray mitt with the white strings that I could
not take off.
My mother made it, at
Miss Kneefriend's urging.
Miss Kneefriend indeed.
Let me show Miss Kneefriend a knee.
Anger takes away happy.
Anger takes away reason.
Anger takes away everything that makes a kid human.
And I was never a human child in the first place.
I was always ready to kill after first grade.
Because I remember, and I knew myself,
and I liked my left hand, and she was
angry too.
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