The day I shot the teacher

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Our school was a massive grey spotted building
with hundreds of tiny windows.
When I looked up, the building leaned over
and cast an evil shadow.
We are introducing English this semester,
our teacher said
but only for the brightest of you.
Three of us were not included.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, dunces.
In the school yard, they danced around us
and the teacher laughed,
till I picked up a brick and broke the nose
on one of our tormentors
and became an instant protector,
of the two who were too timid
to defend themselves.

Expelled, sent to a farm as a correction,
it sort of backfired on them
’cause I enjoyed the company of animals
and slept in the barn.
The building has been erased,
the teacher long since dead,
but stupid, stupid, stupid, dunce,
still rings in my ears.