Closure

The tectonic plate of emotion shifts once more
The school day stretches out one more day

because of too much snow earlier this year
Precipitous year

First the snow dumps
than the rain comes and comes
I ache for sun to dry my poor wet bones

The natives are restless, all fourth grade of them
No one is safe from the restlessness of the impending summer

Every version of my life changes my view
Every landmark from another height, an alternate angle

I am tired of what I knew last decade

The hallway is all echos of today

All the teachers are tired of the students
All the students are tired of the teachers

I say goodbye seconds after I hang up

The lesson sinks in years after the learning

The drain throws up when it unclogs

I ordered every book of everyone I knew and like words leaking in through some weeping gap,
I wake up literary and dormant

The grapes are growing back, like skin graphs, each time I bite one off

The rain is God saying "can you do all this without sunshine?"

My sister is trying to get me to move to California and I totally will,
Once I rip open my mattress and find millions and millions of little moneys

A student comes up to me and asks what bosom means
when I tell her, she says "Euuu, I'm not reading the rest of the book"