i am supply teaching-assigned to ISS
where the culturals and the criminals mix
in a portable detention room/warning them of cells to come
I am to assign them useless work to waste their time
they are curious and seek to distract me-
"what sort of music do i like""who are my fave rap artists?"
i learn just how out of touch i am when they snort and snigger
at my lack of familiarity with their peer group musicians
Some wish to educate me-others just to stay distant and cool
I know of gangs,colors,codes and street lingo
but am of an age when none of these were born
and Mods and Rockers were the apartheid i grew up with
We are all strange species-here for menial offenses
Mine is the failure of my art form (to generate prosperity/credibility)
They are here for speaking ,disrupting,laughing or being inappropriate
A strange respect and solidarity -as temporary as detention-settle in
I do not have to threaten to know i cannot win
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