My Students Organized A Sit-In Protest Against Me by Bojana Stojcic



but I can’t think about it now coz

the sun is shining like a well-polished shoe and

life assumes a different rhythm on the weekend

on the weekend i sleep in, cut the grass

wash my shapeless ill-fitting sneakers

recalling the days when everything had a different form

coz

it’s tiring when you have to listen to yourself

let alone when they don’t hear what you’re saying—

all that jazz about developing some skills

and climbing the social ladder

it’s like these curtains repeating the wallpaper pattern

coz i can almost see it

dozens of climbing boots sitting unused in a cupboard

twenty years from now—harmless like empty words

(unless you choose to believe them)


it’s tiring to know they think they’re punishing me

while all along it’s like trying to shoot the teacher

and the gun does not fire