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​East Fork:

A Journal of the Arts​​


I am looking down a pointed index finger,

hot pink nails contrasted on ebony,

coiled otherwise into a fist.

She had gathered her things, papers topping

binders, pencil case, disorganized and eyes down

making her way toward the door. Before reaching

the threshold, she had stopped, wheeled around and

marched for my desk.

"You...you are our teacher

you don't get to hold back,

not anymore. We are your

students, treat us like we are

your students." Her eyes

locked on mine, lower lids welled

behind hand-me-down glasses,

wearing the grief of beautiful,

skinny white girls, groping

pubescent hands and what did it mean

when "intelligent" and "woman"

were used together in the same sentence?

Model
By: Eric Hagen