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Crisis in the School Office: A Little Boy’s Awakening

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they sat in the office:
it was a floral tobacco brown colored room
across a table crammed with papers,
and an open diary.
let’s amend this –

precisely at noon.  a darkened sun,
hung wearily aloft and
he was in high esteem.,
until now. but dearest…

the polemic nature
of your behavior noted for a minute;
beautifully written poems,
translated stanza by stanza,
weakened by brutal plagiarism;

you simply changed a lot of words
but altogether natural, good.

now the playground rumors weigh
heavy like a 20 Kilo sack of rice
balancing on that curly head.

by such arrangement grappling with boys
is forbidden in time set apart
from learning. even if sin is a lie,
this assimilation fail
calls for dense love…


freezing stares taper the air.
old nails and a wrinkled hand tear down
papers pinned to the wall.
in that fastidious palm,
she crushed before hurling
into the metal bin
making a din,

the hearts blood freezing –
a grandeur deplored forever; the pen
among the best worked for hours
kindling the passion of peers –

a brooding instruction laced
the sternest glance and a pointed finger
heaving him out the half opened door;

the Arctic frosted glass
glazed his reflection – this feeling,
equitable to salt water repetitively
tasted on the tongue,

trickling away a dream.

Another Poem: sprawling shells on the high school playground


Author Skendong

Metamorphosing Clunky Narratives

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