The school comes alive once more as the students return
to work towards fulfilling their goal with a purpose to learn
to choose a career path that makes their dreams come real
to embrace the curriculum with enthusiasm and zeal
when called all together to assemble as one family in the hall
the address of the principal you can hear when a pin fall
who clearly outlines the safety rules for everyone to follow
that no one will have any reason to live with regret tomorrow
every child is important as the weakest link of a chain
for the reason of attendance is that knowledge be their gain
The role of the teacher is a sacred bond for every student to see
who walk alongside the students to ensure what it means to be free
the student must see through the teacher's eye whatever being thought
that the twist of the future will be shaped by everything brought
The hallway to enter a leftover room.
Loud and soft spoken at the same rate.
Echoes.
Eyeballs.
Fidgeting so much that a nail popped off.
Clink.
This meeting is a place for loud pitter patter.
We tear out the old wiring, gruffly.
Plug into the system as if we are alive with twisted cords.
Chapped lips.
This meeting is grungy, complicated, teeth chattering.
It’s cold as a diver submerged in the ocean.
Took my scarf off in a daze.
They took attendance as silently as stale water.
I Finally Get It.
I'm Incredibly Slow.
It's What You Remember!
No Time But The Past!
Distorted, Melting Into
Puddles, Soon:
Well, Personally... Right?
Not The Way I
Remember.
And Some Of Them Are:
Spiky, Shameless, The
Emporium Unashamed...
Primal Ambition For
Future Attendance...
But NOT!!!
How We See It
Anymore.
I Think.
-Gray Squirrel
07-29-2026
a star on police uniforms
different than a star on a dressing room door
a star on a Sunday School attendance page
A star on a Christmas tree
Not the same as a star on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame
a starry night made famous by Van Gogh
stars in her eyes
star student
stargazer
starlight
the northern star
so many stars
plastered on the ceiling of my mind
Where the stage manager sits
the occurance of defintion
defined as a position or a fill-in
speakers along the proscenium
edge to counteract the effect
of the sound coming from the side
primary liaison between the director
, actors, designers, and technical crew.
blocking and cues
his responsibility was to make sure
all were in attendance for
rehearsals, and the scheduling
some are also responsible for set
designs and redesigns
wardrobe and furniture
lighting and sound
a communicative position
ensuring safety throughout
the whole company
" I often had been sad by what I thought I should be doing
my work help me focus: I meet my wife right here
in this theather, we worked together
I was capitivated by her work and work ethic
we married and never looked back",
Passaggio and Chiaroscuro.
" Etude Musicia" she spoke
illustrating her work
Loving me illustrates her intentions"
Étude Love she said laughing.
The piano rushing with water.
Cramping hands and nothing feelings.
I used to have my mind.
Now it’s unleashed like a groggy mess.
Like spines being tangled up.
Teeth teeter tottering.
Clamming up like a tree wants to do, but can’t.
He really wants to slip away from the wind.
Drums and cymbals.
Eyes lifting like a garage door.
And stuck.
No one leaves.
No one would leave me.
Even the lonely guy playing the triangle.
The trilling isn't an instrument at all.
Sounds like a sudden exhaustion.
So I was late that day.
They don’t take attendance unless I’m gone and trapped.
I love music for no reason at all.
The piano burst through.
Unleashed.
Drums and cymbals.
Exhaustion.
Exhaustion.
Decrotive needle work
sewn ito the fabric
they were highlights to
make the invitations look exspensive
Decrotive foods samples
savoury with drinks
The Celebrants marvoled at the audeince
I heard them mention how
they wished they had asked for a $5 dollar ticket fee.
One of the members of the wedding party sent
out a letter asking the attendants to take up a collection
from the many who had come
the budget was running over
due to last minute exspentures
people filled the ballroom
and extra people were needed for different things.
the day of cordinater earned her money that day.
Keeping the many there entertained during the down sides
and keeping people feed while they waited.
Love was the theme of the day
and many in attendance
respected the theme
and allowed the usage of the laugage
of "Bliss" to over take the littlest doubt
from those who were pesitmestic and mean.
25th high school reunion
Big Beaver Restaurant 1997
You somehow found
the seat next to me.
Showed me a picture
of your husband
Doesn’t he look like you?
--No—well---maybe--No
Later, I wanted to talk to you
--all night--
Hands in my pockets
by the dance floor
Unrestrained, we might have
taken a room out on Rt. 18
But that’s only me.
The next morning
my wife at the time
said that you were
still in love with me
Fast forward to the coming
55th and I will not entertain
Attendance at your beckon.
Our virtual cyber reunion
in recent years has covered
the things we might have
uttered over those motel pillows
in Beaver Falls by the truck stops,
those reasons why our youth at the time
was such a mutually delicious flaw
You are in a good place, now,
with bad knees,
While I am palpably exposed
Out Here in the ether
on the dance floor,
where
we might attend
to our mysteries.
waves of purple met us when we arrived at her celebration of life
most were wearing it in some shade or another
there was grief
she had been twenty-five
young to be murdered
worse to be murdered while her children watched
they were three and four at the time
would they ever fully recover?
they were not in attendance
I had come for her twelve-year-old brother
he is Asperger, and has few friends
I am the school counselor
his classroom teacher and I had come together
to celebrate his sister’s celebration of life
short as it was
May we all at least once on our lifetime
(because oh what a thrill it brings)
be blessed to be in attendance…
when a whale starts to sing.
O’ Casagemas,
what is this Heartbreak I hear,
from this woman with sagged, fired breasts
and onion hips that tell a strumpet?
This cruel, shameless voyeur
with little mind — who owns a
vainglorious torso;
a Lady Serpent, viperous!
O’ Casagemas,
this Heartbreak hurts,
running streams of cold blood at cockcrow.
We cannot be counted among men
but among lizards with tail monuments.
Veronica, Juliet, Ada or Ulu?
How does one even spell her name, with votive
words, or with streaks of bleeding ink?
Heartbreak spills from a hollow platter, gushing
cascades of heated tears.
Caustic! A ruinous fountain.
Dream.
Casagemas sprouts, a monocotyledon
on which she feasts — succubus!
Incubus at noon.
Night.
Painted on the frame of a subtopia,
this naked virago — pulse of falsetto —
weeps at the feet of the grave of Casagemas.
Morning.
Velvet roses and tailored satin, pink and white fluff
for Casagema’s Rebirth
and christening ceremony.
In attendance:
fair daughters of Eve, naked, baby-fresh and
Casagemanous, to wreak vengeance on this
hag with a fluke in her liver.
An empty room
Standing center stage
She waited for her cue
bassoon in hand
She breathed life into
"MI Stro" a ballad by
Piffston Grisser"
A song which curated
More than four minutes
She incorporated
" it's gotta be"
by Danny Dewmore
A very popular song
To the delight of those
In attendance and to those
Who were to view the film
The staff stood and applauded
She bowed and smiled
And then letter the stage.
I heard one saying "she wowed us"
Her male factor spoke whisper to
Her "I should be nervous to lose you
to someone who is as talented as you"
He kissed her. We found it to be romantic.
The reliance of performance allows us
To speak of you as "the deal sealer"
You have mourned in triumph to get the part!
We spoke this moment as her "monomythwhere
The bassoonist has arrived at stardom!
By noon, the halls throb with static, a low thrum like teeth grinding in sleep. The school, half-submerged in memory, holds its breath. Beneath a cracked skylight, a locker peels open by itself, slow as a yawn. Inside: a paper crown, soaked in ink, and a polaroid of a girl with mirrors for eyes.
In the boiler room, the janitor sketches circles on the concrete with the burnt end of a matchstick. Each loop traps a sound—laughter, crying, chalk squeaks, the metallic gasp of a vending machine dying. He hums again, off-key. The candle’s flame dances, nodding in rhythm.
Outside, the sky bruises. Rain falls sideways, stinging like questions. A new child, coat too big and eyes too sharp, stands at the school’s rusted gate. He doesn’t knock. The gate unlatches itself. The wind pushes him forward.
Inside, the crow watches from the rafters, its feathers slick with ink. It cocks its head, listening. The boy who vanished left his lunch behind—beneath desk 32B, scratched into the wood: “Don’t let it slip who you were before the dreaming.”
The monkfish, now wearing a teacher’s badge, clicks its pen and begins attendance. One name is circled in red.
A child is born
And the attendance is few
But a soul is lost
And the attendance is much
Asleep not, my muse begins to trot,
Evoking whispers of willow
In my memorial mirage.
Asleep not, my concern is hot.
It has nothing to pillow
But your cold corsage.
Solely awake solely in wait
Whether affectional arrears
Find the atonement too late
To recoup your stray tears.
Half desirous half in despair
How my wistful heart dithers
When into thin air
Years of attendance withers.
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