WTF?

He said when greeted with a quiz
on adjectives or verbs or anything
that meant lugging the textbook
home and back again. He shrugged,
turned the pages, skimmed the captions,
then slammed it on the floor. He wrote,
a cat scratching in a litter box, hurried
vertical claw marks to cover blanks.
He lurched to his feet, flung the paper
on the desk and slumped back into his
chair, grinning from his cotton hooded pelt.

© 2011 Kim King

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About k2king

Poeming to save myself
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