she became Queen for a day

8:43 Monday morning in that white cube

of a classroom

I still remember how they thrust her onto a plastic throne

and told her to sing

cosines and derivatives and formulas tangled in thick jungles of x’s

she said I Don’t Know

they said rule with an iron fist, and

She was overthrown

executed in that fluorescent chamber she calls education

and she plowed back into her acre of wood-grain

a million words compressed beneath her lips

she told them she could sing

but they didn’t want to listen.