Stop and Stare

October 18, 2011
By Anonymous

Oh God, it’s an awkward seating arrangement.
Switch, please, please, I’m begging you
Just switch with Buck, or Paul, or, better yet,
move to one of the empty seats in your row
There’s like five of them and my row’s all full
Otherwise, I’d move. I promise.
I’m not staring, it’s just that you’re in that really
terrible seat that’s right in my line of vision whenever I look up
and so it just looks like I’m staring at you, but
I’m looking at the clock,
and the birthday board,
and the announcement sheet,
and the assignments for the other class.
I mean, sure that’s a new shirt, and your shoulders look really nice in it,
Now you’re fake shooting somebody, please not me
Maybe it’s whoever’s behind me. It is.
Who is sitting behind me? Now I just look confused.
I am confused. Maybe it’s okay too look confused
maybe it’s the right way to look, unless
I’m supposed to know that you have an inside joke
with this bizarre girl who sits behind me.
Oh, no. It’s not her. He’s shooting me. Weird.
Crap, I didn’t react, or even smile.
But that’s because I wasn’t staring.

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