We sweat like slaves chained in the hold of a ship,
eyeballing the clock for the same even number,
panting for recess, as the seconds crept by.
Until we were certain, we would die there,
Restless until the long morning was over, and we heard the sweet bell of freedom.
Chairs scraped, and desks slid,
The exit plan was established as
We blasted out the door to the lunchroom, through our lunches, and then outside, to 45s
playing on portable battery-operated players
to John, Paul, George, and Ringo,
the latest band on the top 10 hit list.
Our ponytails sailed,
hips swerved, and arms swung
to the Jerk, the Pony, and the Swim.
We rocked to a revolution
Determining our basic civil rights as
The local temperatures were rising,
Keen on change. Yearning for freedom and self-expression
Oozing mini-skirts, fishnets, and patched hip-hugging jeans
decorated with flower power, dripping on the asphalt
And dancing with cool friends,
dizzy from the heat.
1/28/26
Corney Press 