Page 42 of I Can't Even Think Straight

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my and Mr. Ndour’s doors are open

if either of you want to talk

about anything.”

After Detention—The Corridor

A question is forming

as Matt and I step into

the empty corridor.

We walk in silence, side by side.

The soles of his shoes squeak,

as Matt drags his feet.

This corridor has been cleaned

during our detention:

the detritus of the day,

and the smell of sweat,

swept and mopped away,

replaced by a sparkle

and a clinical smell.

When I’m sure we’re out

of earshot of Ms. Sarpong

and Mr. Ndour, back in the classroom,

I turn to Matt:

“Don’t you think maybe

Nathan was projecting his feelings

about looking different to his brother

onto that experience

he had with the police,

and maybe he was projecting

his feelings about me

looking different to all of you

onto what happened today?”

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