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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 09-June 21:24:06 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 167667
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Inmates
[time] => 2011-10-06 05:59:11
[hometext] => Written in the style of Sylvia Plath's poem 'This is the way they ring the bells in bedlam'
[bodytext] => And this is the way The morning siren rings And this is the hyperactive form teacher, In front of whom we assemble every morning, To take the class roll. And because we are told to scramble for the top And because we mind by instinct Like children, caught on the wrong side of the merry-go-round We are the circle of popular-perfects, Who sit on the nice patch of grass at lunch, And smile at each other in false modesty, Who each pass around food, Who each avoid it faster than the other, Masquerading our insecurities With new tales of control and euphoria And this is the feeble Queen Bee, Who grumbles, as if it were special To be hungry, to be fed. And this is the arrogant and obnoxious dominant male, Who laughs at the jokes he fails to comprehend Who laughs, ignorant all day And this how the siren really sounds, Calling the inmates , Each as untroubled and clean as a child in its playpen And that is that mind of the child, ever responding To the sound of the siren, and a teacher’s shrill tone Whose tone calls them, promptly And although they are no better for it, They are expected to endure it. So they do. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 379 [topic] => 67 [informant] => thefacade [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => schoolproblems )
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