they are

they are bleeding
there’s 13 holes in his chest
one for every year of his life
and yeah, he runs with the wrong crowd
but it was his uncle that had the knife
he still runs the court
he just slows when it burns
they’re bleeding, and it’s embarrassing
the nurse quit – they terrified her; they laughed
but now there’s no one to give out tampons pads napkins Midol
the teacher’s asking the class
“does anyone have a tampon she can use?”
as if life wasn’t embarrassing enough
the guys in 10th period are laughing
about what they did to her last night
what she let them do after he said I love you
they’re homeless
always late to class
always wearing the same cigarette-burn T-shirt
always late normally means expulsion
but the secretary tells you, “they’re okay,
“they’re homeless – they can stay – take them back”
as though those words can describe one child
some are pissed; some are embarrassed
there are no pencils in the homeless shelter
they’re 12, 13, and they play like adults
they drink barley and smoke marley
they don’t know the man or the music
but they will light that shit up
to go with the wine they’ve got in solo cups
and I think pills, pills are coming to town
some of them have got these pink spots
and they cannot stop scratching
they play at being adults,
and they’re just as bad at it as we are
she’s crying in ninth period
she’s hoping they’re wrong
she’s too young to be a mom
she’s terrified, and jealous, too
the other girl only caught herpes
these thirteen year old adults couldn’t tell you
what the economy is – but somebody better fix it
they know that much
their Dad’s sad, and his job is gone
so, please, she edited the letter twice
he doesn’t care about that
his dad got his throat slit
so he’s throwing his chair
because no letter is bringing him back
they ache
family is in jail
family is dead
family is crying, dying, and deported
they ache, they weep, they bleed
they hurt
they’re everywhere
she’s 3, and she pees funny
because her mommy doesn’t like it when she cries
so mommy grabbed her by the ankles
and swung her soft little skull
into the wall
stop
fucking
crying
they hurt when it shouldn’t
it shouldn’t hurt to be a kid
and they will still steal your breath
I ask them to write some metaphors
and they remind me what life is for
“playing soccer is like having babies –
someone’s always kicking you, and it happens in all four seasons!”
“our class is like my fingernails –
we’re all beautiful, and I’d hate to lose a single one”
“our class is like a brick wall –
we fit together perfectly, and we’re not complete with one of us missing”
“mister b – have you ever been to juvie? or jail? I just wanted to know if teachers make mistakes, too. Anyway, I’m not going to be here tomorrow.”
They go on the attack, like “would you do us a favor?”
“well, I don’t have a pony – what do you guys want?
“yo mister b – would you quit smoking for us?”
I’ve cried in front of them
I tremble in awe and pride
at the things they achieve
I don’t teach them
I try to make them smile
so they can break out of their shell
and shine, and forget
that they’re not meant to make it
so they can light up
with everything they already knew
but don’t usually admit to themselves
I don’t teach them
I just like to get out of their way
and I want you to do the same
if you have a dream, they should be in it
that they still dream is a triumph
they are amazing – let them show you
they are the future