What I Remember from High School - Joanne Tasker
rape jokes
and everyone laughs
what’s funny
is sex-ed didn’t teach us
about consent
we blow condoms up
like balloons
look for answers in a word-find
circle the word penis
with a penis
when I hadn’t even seen one
bathroom sex
she lost her virginity
on a Motorola flip-phone
pass it around
for show and tell
depression has a thirst
that makes her wrists bleed
she’s learning to hide her misery
in long-sleeves
arsonists
students armed with Lynx
and a lighter
did you know you can set fire to a window?
burnt glass reeks of melted plastic
stains like aged rust
fight or flight
I learned that I freeze
a girl’s hair is pulled tight
like a noose
I could reach her
but my feet don’t move
there is a gunman
in a meth lab up the road
we hear an alarm and line up on the field
like ducks in a row
three suicides
but they weren’t my friends
I know more about how they took their lives
then I’ll ever know about them
at graduation they parade me across the stage
hold me high like a trophy
lay claim to my accomplishments
as if they exist because
rather than in spite of
high school taught me that
handshakes and smiles can be weapons
like a piece of rope or a razorblade
and congratulations really means fuck you
so, congratulations
I made it through
not all of us did.
Contributor's Note
Joanne Tasker is a law student at the University of Waikato with a passion for reading and writing. This poem is her first published work.