Tuesday, February 1, 2011

poem of the day 02.01.11

dead balls

mrs. fuccillo
kept her 5th grade classroom
hot in the winter

she had the door shut
and all of the heaters running

kids dropped like flies in her class

went to the nurse in droves
sick and dehydrated feeling

yet the school never did a thing about it

i used to get headaches in her class
headaches caused by the heaters
and the closed door

i used to look outside the sealed windows
at all of that cold and snow
and feel as though
i’d never get back to humanity

the best that i could hope for
was to fall asleep

no headache for me

no emily dickinson either

mrs. fuccillo never cared
if a kid fell asleep

she was always too cold to care
walking up and down the classroom
checking each window
making sure that it was sealed

if you were asleep she never even
tapped your head to wake you

this one time i fell asleep in her class

we must’ve been talking about
edgar allan poe

poe was always a good one
to put me to sleep

poe or the island of the blue dolphins

i must’ve been in the wrong position
sitting at the hard wood desk

when i opened my eyes to take in all
of the other mounds of dead flesh
it felt as if my groin were gone

i couldn’t feel a thing down there

so i hopped up
and began dancing around the classroom
trying to get a feeling

i have dead balls, i said to myself
as mrs. fuccillo droned on
about nouns and adjectives

dead balls in this heated hell of a classroom

i went up to the desk
with my hands down the front of my pants

i was nearly crying

mrs. fuccillo looked up at me
then took me out into the hall without a word

there was a sensible breeze in the hallway

it felt normal

suddenly my balls and cock came back to life

they began tingling
like a hand or a leg that had fallen asleep

shit, your balls can fall asleep too? i said to no one

watch your mouth, mrs. fuccillo said
then she asked me if i was all right

i nodded

she opened the door to the classroom
and the heat blast hit us like
it had come from an old pittsburgh steel mill

dozens of red and dead eyes
looked up at me
as mrs. fuccillo guided me back
into the classroom

rubbing her shoulders and slamming the door
behind us

to keep out the draft.


Pat Tillett said...

"I have dead balls!" That was so funny and painful. I liked it a lot.

John Grochalski said...

Pat...thank you.