Ode to Detention

Primary school

Those inside detention,
Are Gods way of saying, rebels
Are the vinegar of the present, 
And the sugar of the future,
How we change our textures,
Viscosities, and consistencies,
How the will and the wit, when
Blended together, brings home
The bacon. How you graduate
From a piggy bank to a million dollars
In your savings account.

It only takes, a sense of knowing
That everyman has a gift, to know that an
Apple, will one day become
A desktop, a Macintosh computer,
That stood on a desk in 1976. How simple lines
And little tricks called algorithms,
Made the switch from code,
To solving real life problems.
How a man, crouched, shoulders hunched,
Typing away, is now a status quo.

How beautiful if Darwin was
Among the living, to see that
Technology too evolves, by natural selection,
Why Google Chrome is now a raison-etre,
While other short lived browsers
Crashed out. Our gas tanks
Are run on dreams, and we
Collect serial mileposts, just like
We leave behind dead kangaroos
And possums, our road kills.
How the steering wheel and
The rearview mirror, both matter,
Its about staying on course,
As well as not forgetting, your once roots.

Classrooms prepared us for
The office cubicles, detention prepared
Us to the real world, where
The yardstick of success, is not the
Picture in a yearbook, or the girl
Who you took to the prom, only
How easy you are, at what
Sets you apart. The essence is,
Only you, and what makes you stand alone
In a crowded room, not dwelling
On how obscure you are, only
How common you’re not. There’s a special
Place for the rare, like a column in,
The periodic table, attributed
To rare earth metals.

Fate will find you son, like David
And his sling or Joseph and his
Interpretation of dreams. Fate,
Is just like a gold pan, it searches
For the nugget, like a pearl diver
Searching for nacre. Rare, is the
Solitude of a brain, in school detention,
That grew while there, like how some
Seeds need special conditions,
To germinate.

Classrooms are, a sower’s paradise,
An arable field of dreams,
While detention is an organic process,
Of making one paltry seed, be receptive to
That particular environment,
The right blend of fertilizer, sunlight
And water, inside soil-filled pots.
A rare seed, that becomes
A sapling beneath a roof. How rebels find
Their calling, inside detention;
An unsung space, a beautiful greenhouse.

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