Boredom At 2:18PM

I am alone

at a mahogony desk

with scratches at the edges

from some careless trustee

back in '82 when I was

only a girl in love with

John Stamos and Travis Wainman.

I sat at a desk then too

next to Mike Vogel and Lisa Hall.

I made engravings there

"CC +TW 4-Ever!"

"Math Sucks"

while Mr. Aiken spouted off something

about equations...

how to solve them...

should have been listening

but it was 2:18PM and minutes

from a bell I much anticpated: A prelude

to a walk home I would run to

so I could

pull Tara's hair and flirt

with Donny Carter

as busy cars drove by

the sidewalk we shared

amid runny noses,

frozen breath, and dirty slush.

It's 2:18,

and I wish I had learned

to solve those two o'clock equations

in last period before Tara

would lose some strands.

I wish my fingers

were motivated to move...

even engrave something

on this desk! something that would keep

until 2022. A deeper cut

than these mindless scuffs

I study..something exciting like

"Love your job. Hate your life."

for another bored social worker

to feel, as she tapped

her toes to the office clock

awaiting some kind of bell

at 2:18.

~END