Tonight's Poet Corner: No Show
No Show
by Belinda Roddie
Absent from class again,
the drizzle of questions falling awkwardly
against the desk with broken erasers
stacked
in a puzzling monolith of detail.
The teacher had said she'd be healing
quickly from the accident, but
it's very hard to take a step forward
when the foot needed to take said step with
was nearly crushed between the pedal
and the caved-in steering column.
And the hospital bed is
warmer than a textbook,
and the food is still better
than the gruel served to Oliver Twist
in the cafeteria, and somehow,
the sterile lighting
is more comforting than the glow
of the nineties' projector casting
intimidating print on the walls.
Absent from class again,
with the car shrapnel scars
still exposed on her skin,
and maybe she won't
come back.
by Belinda Roddie
Absent from class again,
the drizzle of questions falling awkwardly
against the desk with broken erasers
stacked
in a puzzling monolith of detail.
The teacher had said she'd be healing
quickly from the accident, but
it's very hard to take a step forward
when the foot needed to take said step with
was nearly crushed between the pedal
and the caved-in steering column.
And the hospital bed is
warmer than a textbook,
and the food is still better
than the gruel served to Oliver Twist
in the cafeteria, and somehow,
the sterile lighting
is more comforting than the glow
of the nineties' projector casting
intimidating print on the walls.
Absent from class again,
with the car shrapnel scars
still exposed on her skin,
and maybe she won't
come back.
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