The Guru and the Gun

There was a time I envied
American children at school.

The freedom of dress and opinion;
The yellow school bus at the doorstep;
The gym and sports and, most of all,
The swanky halls of learning.

We were regimented in uniforms
All our school days, and walked
A mile even in primary school.
There was no free lunch, only water.

For sports, a muddy backyard;
The classroom, the cafeteria.
We sat four to a gnarled bench,
More than forty in a class.

Against the wall leaned a cane,
Right next to the blackboard.
Corporal punishment was okay—
But no one died.

Some teachers were feared;
But in going to school
There was no terror of death—
Only of math or grammar.

Watching the news today,
Schooling in America
Is like sending kids off to war—
They may not make it back.

There are no rods anymore.
The once revered gurus
Can now brandish guns—
Caning is out, killing is in.

“Too salty the soup?”
“Just add more,” says the cook.

Abie Alexander © 2018
Hamilton, ON, Canada
March 28,2018