At our first PTA meeting at our daughter's new |
school, my wife has to give me a little bit of a prod. |
The dad in charge of the dad's maintenance muster roll, |
Paul, gives me a firm handclasp and a welcoming smile. |
While we talk, I notice details in the multi-purpose space: |
faces of celebrities drinking milk, the piano, the stage. |
Age has made me able to enter a school by the front door |
grace on my shoulders, but I flash back to third grade. |
April we moved to a new school in Hawaii, a new place |
all over. The school buildings were military barrack style. |
God, I stared up at the windows that opened with a long pole |
through group time and reading time and math squad, |
poor new kid, trying to keep the tears in his head until two. |
Poems and poetry as experiential art experiments, created by a dedicated core, sparking consciousness river, word slurry. A harvest of poems and creative thought from a creative collective cadre.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
New School
Labels:
daniel ari,
onion,
poem,
zabriskie
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I am experimenting more with onion rhyme. Here, I've tried to rhyme both the first and last words in each line in this pattern (where the first letter in each pair represents the rhyme on the first word of the line and the second letter represents the rhyme on the last word of each line):
ReplyDeleteab
bc
cd
de
ef
fg
ga
fg
ef
de
cd
bc
ab