Sixth Grade Homework Check

by Louisa Muniz

 
It was the last time I wore the white knit sweater
with the green Peter Pan collar. One-size-too-small
it outlined the budding breasts of my girlhood chest.
 
Earlier I complained to mother. She waved her hand,
no te preoccupes. But I worried when he summoned me
to check homework at his desk. Head down & arms crossed
against my chest, I stepped gingerly down the aisle.
 
Stand up straight! Keep your hands to your sides!
The students at their desks conjugated their verbs—
I gape, you gape, he/she/it gapes.
 
The floor beneath me opened, offered to swallow me.
Outside the window the rain hissed. The tender sapling
rooted fiercely into the earth.


* * * * *

Louisa Muniz lives in Sayreville, N.J. She holds a Master’s in Curriculum and Instruction from Kean University. Her work has appeared in Tinderbox Journal, Palette Poetry, Menacing Hedge, Poetry Quarterly, PANK Magazine, Jabberwock Review and elsewhere. She won the Sheila-Na-Gig 2019 Spring Contest for her poem "Stone Turned Sand." Her work has been nominated for Best of the Net and a Pushcart Prize. Her debut chapbook, After Heavy Rains by Finishing Line Press was released in December, 2020.