Some Gratuity
January 26, 1986, I am fifteen and in ninth grade
For the second time. I arrive to Algebra class
Which is a subject I get only because there is
A serious fear of failure, because this is the only
Private school in the whole Kanto region which means
The whole city of
Area of foreign property for there to be more than ten
All English speaking schools, and my parents
Are paying a lot of money for me to get away from the base
And “Social promotion” and things like drug abuse.
So I show up to Mr. Scrace’s class at 7:10 am in
After having ridden the train for almost two and half
Hours that morning because the only school that will
Take me is also in another city and I have to got on
The train by five and change three trains before I get
To
And half up to the top of the bluff before I’m at school.
So Mr. Scrace, this hoary voiced Australian wack job
Of an Expat, if there ever was a boozey stereotype, he was it,
Except he was more dour than drunk and wild
Manish in his attack on stupidity. “look at you all!” he’d shout
After asking for the Z of the X and Y coordinates
He’d just handed out. “A row of cabbages all of you, in a row!”
And honestly I didn’t mind being compared
To a vegetable. I kind of aspired to it anyway. So I come in
And Mr. Scrace says the Space Shuttle just blew up
And I laugh because I’m not really sure what he’s talking
About, but I think it finally sounds kind of cool.
“You think that’s Funny?” Mr. Scrace always seemed to
Have two little balls of white spit salt at either end
Of his mouth, adding that Hermit quality to the unkempt
Rapture of his prophetic beard. And I have to say
I was afraid. Not for the Shuttle, not for the lives lost and
All that other end of innocence crap the Television
People went on and on about. But I was truly afraid for my
Own precarious future. And as you might guess,
Many years fter I was expelled from that private school
I learned that Mr. Scrace also went mad and was
Sent back to some sheep land institution, lost in
Where Sky Lap melted back to Earth. Thank you
Mr. Scrace, for being so genuinely Bat-Shit crazy.
1 comment:
Love it.
Post a Comment