the physics classroom is like
a root canal
my brain chokes on mouthfuls of
cotton.
SCALAR: magnitude only
-distance; speed
(directionless)
the minute hand lopes onward with difficulty
we have gambled away our
futures on the clock's slow progress,
a debilitated rabbit.
the back of your head looks
soft, Mr. Crawford,
like something a robin would nest in.
you should have been a Puritan.
today i am as large and looming,
dispatching very quickly to my blurry vision
of nowhere.
the unspecified point in quadrant three, that's me.
perfectly scalar.
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2 comments:
Ahh I love this! a perfect description of a typical 8th period day in Mr. Crawford's windowless room :)
Interesting to know.
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