yes, kenneth

we sat awkwardly
facing each other
knees to boney eighteen year old knees
he was rigid
a little nervous
i let him feel my arm
against his
as he slowly started sounding out
each syllable
he would glance up from the page
for reassurance
and I would smile
forty-five minutes later
we had tackled and captured
and brought into holy submission
two
whole
paragraphs of huck finn
his wheels were turning
how could a dead white man
write like such an
uneducated
slave
negro
one of my teachers told me
today
i would end up in prison
but i would rather go to school
and learn how to
work on cars
no one thinks i can do it
do you