Teacher, teacher
strange perspective
more didactic
than intended.

Prospective lessons
on a bullet:
melt it down to elements,
discuss in depth what matters;
pitch it as an artifact
a relic of the war
discuss what we are or are not
should or should not
be fighting for;
maybe I should hide it
far, far away
amass a shield around it
protect resilient beliefs in peace.

Maybe a free-write on the bullet
would truly serve us best
dredge up associations
often left masked
defense mechanized
tucked under the folds of outbursts
tantrums
things untold
which compose the reasons
we all behave certain ways
leading back to my fear
that perhaps it’s best made
for me.

Point the gun this way?

It’s twirling in my fingers
this notion of a last chance
so many things unsure
no rules
you me I we this room
its gray walls.

I would like to take your eyeballs collectively
in a pool
chemical free
to return at the end of class.

Alternately,
an optometry degree required
to see anything 35 ways.