Class of Whatever
       

I can't recall what I did the night
I skipped out on my high school
prom. I'd already cut off my hair, eaten
an entire box of Froot Loops.

I had already invented the Anomie,
a kind of full-body flailing. You can do it
to any beat, and you may enhance
the effect of this flailing by imagining

a) your entire body is composed
of fire &/orb) the floor is wet
cement &/or c) you have married someone
whose name you cannot pronounce.

Nothing caught on. I kept reading
about the Situationists but all my friends
were already just accumulations of images.
I made my bonfire. I slept in it.

There was a teacher who told me that learning
is what's left after the facts are gone
and that's the only thing he said
I still remember.

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Copyright © 2014 Annelyse Gelman All rights reserved
from Everyone I Love Is a Stranger to Someone
Write Bloody Publishing
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission