Finding Meaning Inside Air

Why we cry in corners

L.T. Garvin


Inside the classroom, the air is descending

The clock is ticking in countdown

It’s just a drill today, the intercom blasts


I walk briskly to the desk

Snatching up the keyboard

Looking for the key underneath

Where’s the key?

“Are we gonna die, Miss?”

“Of course not!” I snap, letting calmer air fill my calamity

Pushing the tragedy away

“You don’t have a key???”

They ask incredulously

I want to breathe up all the air in the world

A breath of prayer into my angel grandmother’s ear

One thousand and two times

I have mind-played this scene

Lock the door, shutter it with a bookcase or desks

How many desks?

I would drag them with superhuman strength

Straight across the white tiles

Shutting the mouth of rage

Outside the door

Barricade it with desks

Their plastic chairs shine the meaning

Of life itself

Even after the lights go out

The desk alter would be built

The sacrificial lambs huddle on the floor

Away from open windows

And a roamer with 42 rounds

Runs down tomb-sentenced halls

We ain’t gonna die today! I want to scream

“I volunteer Adriana as tribute –” a girl snickers in the corner

“They went to school too, they know where we hide!” another advises me


The buzzer rings

The drill is done

My fumbling fingers have gone numb

We are free to climb the exhilarating air

Our feet already on the rungs of infinity

Climbing, climbing up to kinder gods

Image Courtesy of Pixabay



L.T. Garvin

Lana Broussard writing as L.T. Garvin , Author -English Teacher - ESL Tutor — Writes Fiction, Poetry, and Various Articles on the Quandries of Life.