And then there were

 This needs more attention. Creating a Sweatfree World

"How still could you stay if your life depended on it" -I wonder this about my antsy students daily. ---------------- "I fount it" -Is this lazyness or is this childs mind still trying to figure out past tense? ---------------- "Do you play well in the sandbox" ---------------- "Could teachers gives A's to bullies for picking on certain students?" ---------------- "I can't even afford a half-ass costume to cover my midriff"

Mother Taught Him All the Lessons He Would Ever Need One time a white girl in need of the friend called me white because I was light, because I still am, used to be, chose to fight her, beat her like her parents clearly didn’t, ground her face in dirt and rocks until she was dark as I should have been. My cousin let the fight go on Because she was my teacher at the time. Another time my father Warren Taught me to back the red Chevy up, So faded, I thought he used Kool-Aid to paint, Back it up until you hear glass. I hit up that reverse Because he was your grandfather, the one you are named after. Most times when your grandfather drove through town, he would pick up anyone, anyone walking and not driving needing a ride and possessing two legs he would smile at and help hop in and drive them where they wanted to go: never turned down anyone walking and not driving that is. One time I showed you the picture of your great, great-grandmother And you realized why you are the tone you are An...

This Meant She’s Gone I woke up in a twin bed, morning after, knowing I didn’t get laid: not enough room. I barely have enough room to keep a stack of books beside not that they would love me anyway. I’ve lost the habit of waking up mid-night and rolling over for sex. A habit lost right after becoming habit. Give me a month and a half and I break it, break you away from me, and leaving nothing to roll over. The warmth on the other foot of bed is nuzzling Georgia sun peak, like a pet I don’t want curled beside me.

"Shut up talking to me" -A gem from one of my students. Not a new quote, but worth including. ------------- "What signification lies in the doodle smiley, start, or heart? Whose face is that, what galaxy, and who depends on that rhythm?" ------------- "You don't look qualified enough to teach a rock to sink" ------------- "Believe you me" ------------- "Four years of schooling and they let me sharpen pencils in the teacher workroom"

The metanarrative language in all of Byrd’s prose poems veils the sequence of events and characters, yet I am really drawn to the poetry still. Because of the lack of punctuation, disconnected syntax & ideas, and lack of names, I as a reader want to “get” the works more than if the poetry were overt. The lack of usual details creates a desire to read the poetry at multiple angles in order to find a reading. Rather than accept this technique as a reading, I continue to try and “figure out” the poem, though I can see multiple ways in which the techniques work. So in a sense, the framing or metanarrative makes me work twice as hard, but still entertains.