“Who threw the eraser?
Who tripped into whom? Who pushed?
Who apologized? Whose father left
this morning?”

Newspaper on the doorstep:
“Children’s Health Insurance Plan
Vetoed.”

Veto.

It could be a vocabulary word.
“Children, copy it down—
this is how your country’s failing
you. Look I can show you how
to read this nonsense.
There goes thirty five billion dollars
that might have fixed your glasses,
that you sit and bind with scotch tape,
or made medicine for your cough,
even helped you
not get pregnant.

But no, look, the caption
they too haven’t learned to work
together we are trying to teach you
to do better
to be better than this
acceptance.

What can I do but tow this line?
Tell you that the eraser means more
and that this grimace is not madness
making its way to my face
it is how we build a life
around what we believe.

“Make every decision one you mean,
And yes I’ll stop class to make sure
you are proud of what you chose,
yes, we’ll grow slower
but we’ll know
when someone offers us thirty five billion dollars
not to reject it.

The truth seems so obvious
if you let it be.

So,
now,
who threw the eraser?”