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Don’t Touch the Lava

17 Mar

Tenth graders jump in the halls,
leap
from one sparse gray tile
to the next,
avoiding the vast field of
lava
that has magically appeared
during lunch.
White tiles burn.

I poke one in the back
as I walk by.
He staggers,
lurches forward,
touches lava,
screams and falls,
pretending to burn into nothing but
giggles.
Leapers, one by one,
stagger, fall, burn
as the whole corridor descends into
giggles.

High school.
Tenth grade.
They write code.
Build robots.
Judge science fairs and

they still play fort
I bet. I know
I do.

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1 Comment

Posted by on March 17, 2015 in Culture, Education, Poetry

 

Tags: , ,

One response to “Don’t Touch the Lava

  1. Davaugntae

    July 11, 2015 at 3:32 PM

    I remember when you showed me this. I don’t know what told me to look through your work again, but I’m glad I did!

     

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