Me, as a Child, Watching my Grown up Self Perform

I’ve got all this mud on my trousers

from when I did a sliding tackle in the field

at breaktime. Sam said it was a foul

and James sent me off. Who even allowed 

James to be ref anyway? You can’t be ref

and play in the match, that makes no sense.

The score ended up 7-5, but we’ll carry on

the game at lunch. And I’ve got this scab

which is really annoying. I really don’t understand

the maths homework but I don’t want to ask Mum

for help again, she might think I’m stupid.

If she doesn’t already. Yesterday we went

on a trip to the zoo. I’ve been there millions

of times before so it wasn’t that interesting.

Apart from the lemurs, I always like looking

at the lemurs. I think all the lemurs at the zoo

are female. Or male. I can’t remember. Anyway,

this mud on my trousers is really annoying,

and the scab is starting to bleed from where

I’ve been picking it. Joel catches my eye

and gives a smirk. Who is this idiot in front of us?

He seems like he thinks he’s funny.

Some kind of comedian. I Don’t Like Poetry?

Yeah, you’re right, dude. I don’t.

Joshua Seigal