You never noticed the fine
print on the box
your school arrived in:
some disassembly required.
It’s a learning experience, though,
no doubt. First
you must discard all the memories
in separate, government-
approved locations,
then extract your transcripts as if
they were nests of copper wire
& lengths of pipe
to be shipped off to China.
The bricks must be given passing grades
so they can advance
to the next life. Then
you will find a small, bar-coded label
on the bottom step.
This will be your history.
I live in an Appalachian hollow in the Juniata watershed of central Pennsylvania, and spend a great deal of time walking in the woods. Here’s a bio. All of my writing here is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. For attribution in printed material, my name (Dave Bonta) will suffice, but for web use, please link back to the original. Contact me for permission to waive the “share alike” provision (e.g. for use in a conventionally copyrighted work).
Reading backwards, as one does, and coming to this before the original post was interesting. Looks a kind of post-modern Delphi…