Catholic school




I sat on the log,

in my elephant-grey

school suit.

The log, rough-hewn, like me,

its lumps and bumps

and crevices

reflecting my acne marked face.


Then they entered my consciousness,

walked gracefully towards me,

in slow-motion,

like in the movies,

those model children,

how beautiful they were.

I wanted nothing but to bloody

their pristine faces

and besmirch their perfect uniforms.


She was tall, tanned and lovely, 

though she was not the girl from Ipanema,

he was a caricature of a 'Ken doll',

too beautiful, too perfect.

Too contemptible.

They were everything I hated.

Private school kids.


Global Scriggler.DomainModel.Publication.Visibility
There's more where that came from!