The Cool Table

At the end of the cool table
We keep the Inuit
Who whittles and prays
But we don't know to who
Because we don't know who Eskimos, uh, Inuits
Believe in, but we're pretty sure it's something like our god
So we bow our head when he prays
And then we eat our ham on toast
And our banana slices
And the leftover kabob from last night

The Inuit was expelled
From the cheerleader's table
When they found out he couldn't handle
Being at the base of the Pyramid
We welcomed him to our table
With assurances that we are the real cool table
And being at the base of the Pyramid is overrated anyway
Especially since the last time it collapsed
And half the squad landed on poor Polly Pepperson

The Inuit, who we call Morgan
Fits right in at our table
We already have a Samurai
Who transferred here from the all-girl school
Two towns over
We didn't know there were girl Samurais
But apparently there are
And they're not exactly treated kindly
By the boy Samurais at the Samurai table at our school
So we invited her to sit with us
And she says we have 'honor'
Which, coming from a Samurai
Really means something

In the middle of our table sits Jonathan Carroll
Who feels awkward sitting at the bestsellers table
With James Patterson and Danielle Steel
We tell him that those people aren't even real
They're robots with pens for hands
And laptops where their hearts should be
And this cheers him up
And he reads to us from 'White Apples'
Which is a very, very good book

All kinds of people sit at our table
Musicians, artists, dancers
Mathematicians, mechanics, hair stylists
Revolutionary war buffs, honor students, and the entire volleyball team

Every day we have to add another table
Onto our original table
So that we can have room
For all these new cool people

We could just tell them
To sit somewhere else
But why do that
When you can just put ten tables together
And have a giant cool table
That stretches from one end of the cafeteria
To the others

The teachers were a little concerned
That this might be a fire hazard
But before they could tell us
To move the tables back
They saw us make room
For Cody, the blind kid
Who will one day be C.E.O.
Of a software company

When the teachers figure out
That we've got room for everybody
At our cool table
They leave us alone
And spend the entire lunch
Yelling at James Patterson
For letting a ghost writer
Do his homework for him

We feel like we're in a banquet hall
Instead of a high school cafeteria

Cheering each other on
And singing songs
And drinking grog (or maybe Pepsi, but whatever)
And rejoicing that we have our Kingdom of Cool

And every once in awhile
We look down at the end of the table
Where Morgan the Inuit
Is telling a joke
And unwrapping his lunch
And smiling for the first time
Since we've known him

And we figure that maybe he's starting to feel okay

Maybe he's starting to feel
Right at home