E Equals Eff My Life Poem by Kaitlin Van Zile

Long corridors with no direction.
We’re all mice, trapped,
seeking molding brie.
Left, right, left, dead end
double back and start over again.
Cornfields trampled.
We dance through crop circles barefoot,
looking for answers.
The past swells in our chests.
Dandelions bloom in our throats,
Roots strangling our lungs,
a poisoned chokehold.
Why? Who? When?
I doubt we’ll ever know.
Sit in class and ask questions,
taste the citrus rind of inquiries.
Bitter.
Yes, No,1968, x = 42.
White chalk on green boards.
Sell your soul for one more question,
one more chance.
One more hot pink hopscotch dance.
Patterns drawn too small for human feet.
Tiny birds dance between the lines,
between power lines.
Electric shock collars.
What’s the answer?
I doubt we’ll ever know.