In the middle of the room
Sunlight streaming on their heads
They grinned and laughed milk through
Their not grown noses
At "Serious" their unfriend who still to school wore "Keds"
Serious sat in a far corner near the hallway
Book propped up on the wall
Eyes bright behind thick lenses
Lost in his read he knew no fright at all
"Hey Serious" they called as always
Across the heads of nibbling, chewing, slurping others
" Hey, we're talking to you" they shouted above the din
Anyone who had been watching could see trouble about then to begin
Their spittled voices missiled over the head
of lunch lady Miss McGee there busy twirling a lock of her long hair
At Mr. Kaye, the tall new gym teacher sharing lunch duty with her standing near her there
Muscles bulging from his bright white Anyplace Middle School knife creased ironed tee
Twirling, smiling, shifting from one pretty foot to the other Serious' would-be savior,
Love-lust-struck, now completely oblivious-irresponsible, pretty Miss McGee
Serious' book was just reaching a grand crescendo, his heart pounded with his protagonist
When the Middlers, plain right there out in the sunlight threw the first milk carton at him
And that first hurl missed
Serious barely noticed, heard the splat and felt a bit of spray
But his hero was on the seas a-sailing and so he missed the assault moving inexcorably his way
Felt the spray on his ankle, heard the roar of voices lost on the sea
Never saw them rise and run past giggling girls toward him
Never heard their "LET'S GET SERIOUS! " rage-charge filled with glee
"We're coming for you Serious, you wormy little nerd
Sitting with your flippin book in your corner
Think you're cool pretending we're not heard!"
But Serious' hero was on the mast the roiling seas slapping hard on tipped boated side
As Miss McGee sidled three inches closer to muscled Mr. Kay
Heated to a boiling point hard for her to any longer stay cooly to abide
No one would say they heard them run, knock Serious from his seat and slap, punch and kick
Until from his nose on that particular lunch-room day mightily did spray geysered blood thick
Serious hardly knew what had happened, had learned to ignore them long ago
From on the floor, book in half tore, glass-less now they were a hazy blur in motion slow
They laughed and hollered into his face and attempted to tickle him with fingers stuck in hard
"Come on and fight or at least laugh, do something" they hissed "you creepy quiet "reee-tard"
And mind you, Miss McGee and Mr. K. had slipped out the kitchen door into the school-yard
There was no one to hear the cruelty that later each, every and all would solemnly deny
Even though Kristina, with a Down's baby sister, did hear it all and face in hands hard cry
Serious lay on the floor his glasses thrown and shattered
Beneath his teeth he tasted the salt of the mighty roiling sea
This to him was all that mattered,not the ways of violent boys
or the ways of giggling girls who fussed on and on and nattered
In fact this type of boy snd girl were ever to Serious
Little more than odd phenomena who were simple and mysterious
(Planned he when he went home to research "group behavior in lunchrooms and the absence of appropriate protection as mitigated by the intervening variable of an intense good read.")
Serious smiled within at his new project, undaunted, unprotected, unhurt by the physicality
For Serious this was within expectable parameters of how his life had evolved and come to be..