Recliner, a Poem About {Kids These Days}

I was in a special class half the day,

a performing arts school two towns away,

and early enough into the year that

I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t an improv

exercise:

sit here in this recliner

and react to this utterly absurd

disaster,

this must-be-an-accident,

this what-are-the-odds-that-it-just-happened-

again-while-we-were-all-already-here-

listening-to-the-radio-in-firm-

disbelief,

this get-out-of-school-early-

to-go-home-and-cry-and-watch-the-news-all-

day-and-wonder-whose-parents-made-it-and-

pretend-that-you-can’t-see-the-smoke-from-here.