teachers

the way they came circling
out of those waves
and my imagination sparked
interest in the oppression of others.

was that what the last unicorn taught me?

the way the auction went
when I was three
and somehow they let my little hand
choose my name to win a prize.

was that what ducks unlimited taught me?

the way the neighbours came
and went
no matter their skin colour
regardless of class disenfranchisement.

was that what wadena taught me?

the way we all smiled, nodded
knew each other’s name
memorised membership affiliations
and purchased collectively our groceries.

was that what the co-op taught me?

the way she sang
en français
sewed my clothes and nourished my pickiness
stocked my craft drawer and my reading shelves.

was that what my mom taught me?

the way we coalesced
hunted for adventures
loved protecting those otherwise left exposed
and chatted randomly to gain friendships.

was that what my dad taught me?

the way I fell
most enthusiastically in love
the entire notion of being somewhere new
and paining for life to explain itself.

is that what spain taught me?

the way I identified
found solace in erratic notes
hated and loved and challenged and sought understanding
found permanent friendship in the weird club.

is that what tori amos taught me?

the way I didn’t struggle
sitting at the front was almost a burden
to be placed in a place where performance was expected
and success a guarantee.

is that what high school taught me?

the way I drifted effortlessly
hidden away in the camper trailer
caring little of judgment or exhaling real air
self-buried in the knowledge and moral guidance.

is that what fairytales taught me?

the way I belonged
at least, in that little child’s mind
to a place filled with endless caring and sweets
and a chocolate waterfall of pure imagination.

is that what willy wonka taught me?

the way I hesitated
with the insecurity only a twenty something could hold
to belong, to be cherished, to be known as acceptable
and held the best job ever to fall in one’s lap.

is that what the legislature taught me?

the way I was crushed
with the despotic weight of those various factors
the ones months of exploration have slowly unraveled
the ones still weighing on my conscious conscience.

is that what depression taught me?

the way I cried
long nights looking upwards with no guidance
desperate for a change of scenery
and still entirely at peace with the opportunity.

is that what wales taught me?

the way I challenged
ceaseless fighting over what only now is irrelevant
inclines of 90 degrees and insurmountable, unremitting difficulty
all for the lowest stakes in the game.

is that what the cfs taught me?

the way I felt astounded
with the breath of the universe blowing in my face
and socrates dancing in my head shouting, “look beyond you!”
for the cave wall was illuminated with insight.

is that what drugs taught me?

the way it knew me instantly
as one meant for its shores
as the one barely left standing, reaching out to be cradled by its goodness
as the one tearing apart only to be quickly reassembled.

is that what sicily taught me?

the way I felt protected
always under the guise of fashion but secretly wearing armour
a sort of geeky counterbalance to kryptonite
all bundled in a visual intensity singular in its impact.

is that what neon green taught me?

the way my life has been redefined
remapped, retold and revealed
the way everything now has a permanent reference point
and context is everything, endless and good.

is that what consciousness taught me?