We don’t need no education
We don’t need no thought control—Pink Floyd
Hall monitors herded us like cattle
to the primary school cafeteria
some purchased meals for two bits,
others ate food from paper bag lunches
or metal lunch pails that rattled like maracas
due to broken thermoses; plugging our noses
we dreaded the frequent sight and smell
of sawdust covering spots where
someone hurled—puking enroute
to the dining hall, ruining our
appetites, causing dry heaves, forcing
us to eat while holding our breath.
Nauseous bodies ambled into a portable classroom
our hip first-year teacher revived our five senses…
flipping off overhead fluorescent lighting
allowing sunrays to filter though pine trees
casting a subdued orangish tint on her figure
she strummed an auto harp & sang solo
prior to providing a kumbaya moment
when we became young revolutionaries
loudly crooning Pete Seager’s lyrics
“Where Have All the Flowers Gone?”
in earnest permitting stomachs to settle
and minds to brew a social conscience.
