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Agent Crayola Orange

(by exasperated request – oh please, I new poem for me. It’s the last 7 days of school -urban hell City of Richmond. Kids are screaming, teachers need medication, SOLs are
threatening, and to top it off, a kid spread boogers on my shirt. If that
doesn’t deserve a poem, what does.)
This last seven days
In Urban Hell
Is likely enough
To break me.
The sun slants in,
The clock tick-tocks,
I sweat alone
In my hole.
Grease paint on my face
And snot on my shirt
Are all that Charlie
Has managed.
We’ve called an
Unsteady truce, but
Their sidelong glances
Imply revolt.
But damned if I’m going to
Let these urchins,
These horrible beasts
Defeat me!
Just hang on, don’t break.
Look them square in the eye.
Nobody is coming
To save you.

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