I’m Sticking Velcro Under Your Desk

I’m sticking Velcro under your desk
So you can press your fingers silently up
Against the prickly sharpness
Instead of falling out of your chair and writhing on the floor

Your teacher gave me permission to do this
But doesn’t believe it will help that much
Just like that inflatable rubber cushion
They make you sit on never does

You’re the only kid in the class with
That stupid goddamned cushion–
Fucking flaccid futile balloon
They taunt you for it, label you buffoon

Trip you on the playground
Scratch the word ‘retard’ in the bathroom
Next to your name and a stick figure that looks
So not like you that you ask if maybe it isn’t

With your IEP and diagnoses
Your extra time and evolving prognosis
You are tested tweaked probed evaluated
(Allowed extra time that’s state-mandated)

The last sleepover party we let you attend
You left your sleeping bag behind
Because one of your friends intentionally pissed on it
While you slept within (his parents offered to replace the bag)

But when we hang happy at joints like the hardware store
It’s all chill and nobody notices what’s wrong with you
Until you try to tug a small pack of tacks
Off the hook and pull the display board down instead

All 5 by 8 perforated feet of it rife with nails and screws
Who abandon ship as the board plummets hard
Bouncing once on your foot before smacking linoleum,
Denting and dismantling itself, and cutting your skin

A very little bit; It will take one pour of hydrogen peroxide,
A Sponge Bob band-aid and a Kit Kat to make you feel OK enough
About the accident to tell your mom simply “we had fun”
Just like we always tell her so she doesn’t cry