The Black Napkin Volume 1 Issue 3 - Page 30

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by Jonathan Moore

No,

taking don’t need no audience.

Stop thinking it loudmouth in the back of the class growing fat

off what we give!

It was was born pregnant with jokes and don’t care if we turn our heads, OK,

I used to think crushing had a crush but it’s puppy love,

one taste and all the dirt got googly-eyed. Now it reads like a first grader’s notebook,

nothing but natal breaks

mama’s name

signed at the bottom, you,

perfect student, valedictorian with honor cord. did your homework in

a home that was never yours.

If death need not attendance, it damn sure don’t want my attention,

it, shy kid with 4-point and new Jordans already got prom king in the bag, behold his majesty,

everyone’s friend. The bell rings, behold

he is holding

all of us in the briefcase and before pencil down, Gone is substitute teacher tacky.

The White Lady with straw hair and the globe on her desk gets sick for

one day

and look at the mess that becomes of homeroom.

He didn’t need to pronounce your name correctly to write you into this world,

and he will always get paid enough for this/

the perks lofty,

the hours flexible.