Alvin Valdez and I would wend
Our way down main at lunchtime.
A bookstore in store much long before
The store became such the main focus.
A conglomerate deal
With central appeal
To the coffeehouse weal,
The Barnes and Noble house status.
A long tall hall, poor light and all,
But against a wall the latest
Of Lester Del Rey, Ray Bradbury,
Or some other Sci-Fi great magus.
It was there where we’d spend
Thirty minutes again,
And again, each lunchtime hiatus.
And then in the end recall all again,
Alter each piece to each of our own
Short Sci-Fi story we’d clone.
That’s how we each to the other would teach
And taught us our own kind of English.
Language Arts were for kids with the smarts;
For us, it was nothing but Spanglish.
The Proctors would crow ’bout the kids in the know,
While Al and I each to each show
From the crowd, the mainstream, the flow.
And Spanglish one language I know.
©2013, Marvin Welborn
27 December 2013
Poem’s Score: 2.4