The black blood between the ruins of houses People who lived there, yesterday. The teacher is a law a grammar a rule. To use the word I is forbidden. Fireworks I am in the thunderstorm behind the black mirrors. A line of chalk on a black board a dust without I. School is the power of a textbook and the knout of marks.
Sentences are a grammar a rule an order.
Speak orderly sentences write orderly paragraphs. They do unto me a law an order a rule a grammar. Lost is my burning glow limes fire thunder Between bars of chalk and discretion. And demands that I smile And bow Like a well-trained kaffir. Simply because he stands around To be greeted.