shirred at the chest, sequined at the bodice,
for once not minding this dress was worn by my oldest
sister, nor that I sported my mother’s plastic sandals
with the see-through high heels
that looked like Cinderella slippers.

You proudly do your hair like Princess Leia’s for picture day only to quietly take out the buns later when the other school children giggle and stare. You trade your stuffed rabbit, Hoppy, for Sarah’s lion at school and regret it immediately.

This poem is delightfully small. We won’t spoil it with a preview!

Mr Darwin, prickly and aged bachelor biology teacher
At a public school I will not name,
Stood lab-coated before a class of rowdy troglodytes each Friday,
Who mocked his every feature, every foible—he
Being the only specimen they ever cared to examine,
Microscopically.

A. pages of books

B. clocks & meeting times (“midday” & “sundown” no longer suffice)

C. ounces of water, tea, wine