“You don’t understand,” Prisoner Carnell says above the laughter. He’s defending his absence from class, trying to put last week’s observation cell and padded gloves behind him.
“You just want attention,” Prisoner Melton, one of my brighter students, says.
Carnell pushes his long-john sleeves all the way to his shoulders as if he’s ready to whup some ass. He’s fairly small, 140-lbs, and his forearms and biceps have a history beyond his years.
“Damnnn!” a few students say. They’re impressed with the display of old and new battle scars.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Prisoner Carnell says, “I’ve kicked plenty of ass in my day. I’ve got more pent-up rage, more anger, than anyone here could ever handle.”
“Fuck off,” Prisoner Melton says, “I ain’t a-scared of you.” He puffs out his chest, his testosterone level increases.
“You have no reason to be afraid of me.” Carnell slides his sleeves back down. “My chances of going home are better if I don’t fight.”
“Doin’ THAT,” another student indicates, “ain’t gonna help you to freedom.”
Carnell explains his actions. “Whenever someone’s wronged me, pissed me off, I cut. It’s my way of dealing with the bullshit. I’m not hurtin’ no one.”
An argument ensues between Carnell and Melton. It’s fairly obvious Melton is egging him on, trying to verbally abuse him. After a few minutes of back-and-forth insults, I intervene. “Gentlemen, I need your itineraries. Now.”
They know the drill. Both are booted from the classroom for excessive noise. Carnell demands a waiver form. “I’m not coming back,” he says. Melton shrugs his shoulders, “see you tomorrow Teach.”
***
Recommendation: John Jeffire’s “Stone + Fist, Brick + Bone.” There’s some powerful poetry in this collection. My personal favorite, which relates to the above post, is “The Composition Teacher Ponders Questions Posed by His Students at the Allen Correctional Institute.”
***
Note: Lori A. May's interview with Tonja Bagwell, curator of the Poetic Travelers series.
16 comments:
Cover art looks kind of like a Diver's Suit, or whatever they're called, which reminds me of The Good The Bad The Weird . . . as do these "fellows."
Sounds like a really intense scene.
I have to amen the read. John Jeffire has written some powerfull poetry from the motor
city. I like the poem "Whiskey" and "Oscwism 1992" and much happening in "Playing pool with my daughter on her first day out of rehab."
As usual JR you need a raise to put up with all that BS. Huck
You do deserve a raise, Huck too. I was just telling one of my colleagues about your summer schedule, remembering you, one of the few good things I took with me when I left. Anyway, he laughed and admitted that he as well as most public school teachers could never do it. I think I'm better for the experience. I enjoyed the read. Tell the people who matter I say howdy do. You know what I want you to tell the rest. Have a good one.
hoist by their own petards so to speak
Powerful stuff.
But it's all in a hole
Mole.
I am trying to say something encouraging.
John Jeffire looks exactly like me....Is that enouraging? :)
Ivan. Just noticing that anyone published looks like you? How about MB or TWM? Is there any current resemblance? Just wondering and trying to be encouraging. You might look good in tights? Huck
At least you have the option to send them out of class. When I was teaching the graduate students, there used to be 105 in one class , and controlling the class was a nightmare! You couldn't even send them out. It was some twisted rule...
It was more like they were putting the teacher to test!
I hope you get out fishing again soon.
Lana, I've already winterized the boat. Good thing too; where I fish they found the decomposed body of a missing banker. The county medical examiner said he had drowned. The banker's family wanted a second opinion so they had the medical examiner from another county do an autopsy. He'd been shot in the back of the head, execution style.
Hey Jr. Dr.Spitz had his own medical show on autopsies in Macomb Conty MSNBC yesterday. Something stinks to high heaven here and I ain't talkin decomposition. How does one miss a bullet hole to the back of the head execution style and not invoke an investigation?????? Enquiring minds want to know. MW
Anonymous,
Well, not tights. Maybe a toga.
To misquote Socractes, who felt ill at his trial, "I'd like to offer a cock to the god Asclelpius. :)
Hey Jim, best wishes.
A recommendation from you is a recommendation worth taking. Thanks and another thanks for your help and support on the plagiarism thing.
Whitenoise, Nice hearing from you. How are those friendly skies? Not so friendly sometimes I'll bet.
Rick, I'm learning a few things from your ordeal.
Mona, the difference is that my students are forced to attend class. Most claim to have head injuries, etc... anything to get out of my area.
Friendly enough, but I should visit here more often. Dealing with my surly teenager reminds me of the stuff you endure daily, I don't know how you do it. Glad to see you're still writing here.
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