i just looked at him
kind of fat
kind of mexican
there was gel in his hair
he had combed it back
glasses on his nose
three fat textbooks strangled
by fat fingers dwarfed by
his dumb white shirt
and i was so happy
(i mean who wears
just a white tee shirt)
because this kid
was going somewhere
and hell if even he knows
where he’s going
but he's trudging along
with those three books
i brought no books
to class i brought
coffee and an essay
to catch up on
i should come to
class more often
and not write
poetry (for once)
if he’s going
i’m gone.
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