THE ARCHIVES: Chapter 16


We were sitting in health class
trying to learn about STDs
(my teacher thinks syphilis
is a beautiful word, even if
the concept is hideous),
trying not to laugh.
The classroom is an old trailer:
mouse droppings piled
in corners, mysterious stains
on the carpet (?) and the silver
track running along the center.
Speaking of track,
the drumline was out there,
banging away
(someone in class would
titter at the implications
of banging),
and the JROTC unit
was yelling in the strange,
doglike yowls they consider
orders. I could not concentrate
except to imagine all the noise
as music.

Return to Chapter 15 | Read Chapter 17

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