Calculus I, II, III
man hooded masquerade
a museum erected out of paper-mâché stone,
blue cotton candied walls hung thick and long
with rooms full of master’s Egos
copied Cats
cut and paste
plantation’s hegemony
onto trace paper canvas
young guns born too brown for they britches
pen-in to kindergarten’s cage
where boys are convinced, this calculus
—how one body
relates to another—
that disturbs all the peace
is the same as learning
their one two threes
evidence contrary to belief
our boys learn fast
science must be, I guess?
a hyper masculine story
washed brains don’t rinse so simple
in and out of class
the curriculum writes itself
soft boys die hard
hot head & class clown grow contagious;
broad shoulders & differential equations
caliber inches into glocks
every where we look
Our highest dimensions
Learn their limits
Without degrees
Copyright © 2024 by Brad Walrond. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on February 2, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets.