this is not a classroom, but here
is where i've learned most of my lessons;
what surrounds me here is reality,
the city sounds read like shakespeare.
the pavement is an iambic romeo
the footsteps the pentamic juliet
the cars are sounds of duels
resulting from too much nose-thumbing.

every night i walk these streets with the same
hope that i carry with me again tonight;
it's a secret, but the wind will know it.
the powerlines will know it,
as it's between them, and me.

as a bus grabs me from the street so violently,
i get a hands on study of (bio)diversity.
the classroom always fell short in that respect;

i knew myself. i knew myself. i knew myself.
ad infinitum. ad nauseum.

these streets are a home and my home is
alien, but to them, i am welcome any time-
as i am thankful, all the time-
for the lessons in shakespeare
whereas i walk at the intersection
of montague and capulet,
these are just lines that cross where i walk.
this is where i've learned, all my life.

06/22/2004

Posted on 06/23/2004
Copyright © 2025 Andrew S Adams