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


Creation, imagination,



From the crowd, the mainstream, the flow.

And Spanglish    one language    I know.




©2013, Marvin Welborn

27 December 2013

Poem’s Score: 2.4


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