My Son, Dissident Disaffected
for my second born, whose 10 semesters came gratis because of my employment at the university—“you get what you pay for”
He sported thread-patched jeans and tattered T-shirts
That several years ago he had tie-dyed red/black.
All his clothes had agitated and tumbled
To that red/black fade.
His feet mocked the organization—
Sporting one red Chuck
And one black Chuck
Held together with safety pins and tape.
For ten semesters, his red dreads
Faithfully attended classes
But finished off his last semester
Without a degree.
The records office tracked his diminishing GPA—
He sports a muzzy brain and a mangled education.
A rather different version of this American-Innovative sonnet appears in my collection Turtle Woman & Other Poems.
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