Why We Skipped Your Class

We skipped your class

Because the ocean overtook the cafeteria

And spending our attention

On Algebra

Seemed like the wrong thing to do
At the time

The class before yours was American History

And seeing as how America was about to become history

Everything had a very ironic feeling to it

If irony is the word you would use for that sort of thing

We were sitting there

Water up to our ankles

Wondering why were learning about the first Civil War

When learning about the first Civil War

Had done nothing to prevent the second and third Civil War

Our toes were numb

Because the water was cold

And only some of us had galoshes on

Because some of us comes from families

That can only afford one pair of galoshes

And some of us have little brothers and sisters

Who need galoshes more than we do

We’re tenth graders

We’ll survive

We skipped your class

Because somebody had a boat

And that somebody was
One of our friends

And when she asked us

If we wanted to sail off into oblivion

We were like--

Sure

Death comes for everybody

So why shouldn't it come after first period?

There was no sadness around it

We might be dying young

But at least we’ll die

Without wrinkles

Which is something

To be glad about

We skipped your class

Not because the boat was waiting

But because we had to pack

For both the boat

And the end of existence

Packing for the boat was pretty simple--

Snacks

Bathing suits

Sunglasses

Packing for the end of existence meant not packing things

We would normally pack--

Suntan lotion

A life vest

Our journals

We thought about not packing anything at all

But packing is one of those things you hate doing

When you have to

But you miss doing

When you think you’ll never have to do it again

It’s funny how many things you can miss

When you’re told

They’re no longer necessary

Taking out the trash

Doing the dishes

Going to class

It’s true

We skipped your class

But as soon as we realized

We were skipping it

We began to miss it

The writing on the chalkboard

The weight of the boredom five minutes before the bell

The five problems that start off every class

Needing to be solved

We wondered to ourselves

What those five problems would have been today

And whether or not

We would have been able

To figure them out

We wonder if instead of math problems

You would have put up real problems

Problems that can’t be solved

How do we stop the water from rising?

How do we end the current Civil War?

How do we instill the importance of education while grappling with the futility of Algebra and other extraneous knowledge when society is falling to the wayside?

How did we wind up here?
How did this happen?

We skipped your class

And got on a bus

To go meet our friend

The one with the car

Not the boat

That friend would take us

To the friend with the boat

And we’d sail off

Never attending

Another class

Again

We skipped your class

And wondered

Who else

Was skipping your class that day

We imagined you standing there

Writing solutions on the board

Then turning around

To see that nobody was there

To check their work

Just empty desks

With blank pieces of paper on them

Filled with problems

And no answers

And no work to show

That anyone

Even tried