Standardized Dreams

Notebook ridges in my pillow skin again; I fell asleep again;

what a nightmare I had,

full of people disappearing, raw meat and

ruthless standardization.

My dreams are standardized, education,

was this what you were destined to do?

Give me your answer book kiss;

I loftily fill in my bubbles:

name, caleb or is it kaleb, or monkey boy;

race, other;

sex, sure;

nationality, all of the above;

please education give me the right form number for once.

I've seen all the answers, anyway, in the busy

pages of free rugged college textbooks,

but why would I tell you my secrets education?

You used me education.

You pressed your groin against my innocent knee.

You combed my hair with pencils I felt special I did.

Now my hair is growing long.

You leave me trembling at the knees, I need my breakfast.

My shinbones are splintering, education!

My saliva is scholarly, education!

Now I'm burping empty decadent flavorless burps

and taking my time with semesters:

which are nothing but time chambers

that we try and fit things in;

like trying to put our houses into waterproof garbage bags

to take on our trips to the oceans

(where maybe we'll see some whales).

You asked me how far away the whale is

(and you must have known that the distance formula

is on that formula sheet everyone has: equal opportunity!);

I gave you all that I knew,

like what the thundery april sky looks like

from a window rarely used

until the branches of the oak tree

start shaking.

I gave you this and more;

take it all, education, take it take it

if that's all you were after all this time.