Curriculum

The basement smells like damp and dust

until I find the spiral spine.

It’s the flavor of a broken trust

in every sharp and slanted line.

The floor wax at the school was slick,

a chemical yellow under my shoes.

He used a pen that was red and thick

to pick out the words he’d choose

to kill. He circled 'excessive' twice

around a sentence I thought was gold.

I learned to be quiet, to be nice,

and do exactly what I was told.