~
I didn’t start school
as early as others,
but rather, in media res

and was further expelled
more early, as matters,
beginning with grade level K.

They don’t give out grades
in old California,
out near the Golden Gate Bay;

they didn’t give grades,
I must inform ya,
they didn’t give grades to grade K.

But rather Kicked out!
in old California,
expelled on some churlish child play.

~
Three boys were in ploy,
that’s all I remember,
three boys and the drab skies of grey.

Were we the future?
Student precursors,
out near the Golden Gate Bay?

The teacher, too young,
for what we did wrong,
refusing to come in from play.

Colluded alliance!
in open defiance!
to abjure from compliance, and stay

on a jungle gym set,
where we would stay put!
and simply refuse to obey.

Three boys from the future,
three predecessors,
precursors of trouble some day.

~
It was early enough
to dish out that guff,
too early for old California;

but teachers are teachers
and boys the precursors
of trouble from Golden Gate Bay.

The teacher left crying,
inside, I was dying,
when the principal came to survey

three boys in trouble,
too many to handle
for the teacher of kids in grade K.

But then came three mothers,
who came to discover
their boys in rebellion that day,

and perhaps a precursor
of the students of future,
out near the Golden Gate Bay,

were cuffed and rebuffed,
demanded remand,
and they led off their young lads, away.

~
So much from such sessions
would rebels take lessons
for actions in future one day

to march against Order,
to send them to some war,
which spread across country

from Golden Gate Bay.
~

©2016, Marvin Welborn
6 July 2016