Let's Write a Poem

Teacher: Let’s write a poem. Kids start to fidget, tongues stuck in cheeks, bums wriggle on seats. Teacher has lost interest; she doesn’t really care. Our scribbles will distract us for a while while she marks term-papers. I am ten years old. All I can think of is Superman, So I wrote: ‘I Love Superman’ three times. Teacher with her head down, eyes gone blind to us, ears listening to music in her head. We kids dancing all over our bodies, seeking this inconsiderable alien thing called a ‘poem’. The sunlight and clouds slapping on notebooks and pencils creating fleeting symbols we could not hope to name. A wall clock punctuating words dripping out of leaky pots. Little girls giggling, boys sulkily kicking desk legs. Eventually most of us kids write something. I suspect the teacher didn’t even look at them. She marked all, ‘good’, even mine, Superman left the classroom with all the other kids. Perhaps he feared a kids poetry reading session; pure Kryptonite for a superhero.