Recent Student Work

By sophomore Octavia:

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A part of me  used to think that the spoken word room was a point of paradox in the multiverse

 

There's No rhyme or stanza to the way things work in there 

 

I walked into a morning in which PK peeled a boiled egg like 

an orange and conversed with Noelle about the day’s plans 

 

Time buckles and the next week there’s at least 100 boxes outside the door

And PK’s child soldiers are filling the room with too many orange books to count

 

Or the day I tripped into 6th period and spent my minutes in the spoken word

room with too many Valentine’s gifts

 

My showcase pictures staring me down as weakness pooled around my kneecaps

 

And it came to me like a premonition that: Damn imma about to be rejected 

In the spoken word room

 

After many weeks of conversation 

Self-composing and post rejection contemplation

 

I realize the spoken word room is more refuge than home

 

It’s where I go when I’m angry, when I’ve snowballed so many emotions in my chest 

 

That my words come out in a blizzard and leaving me with frostbit syllables and

 damaged nerve endings 

 

No matter how icy my attitude is PK will be there staring unblinkingly with no judgment, 

just gloves, and winter coat 

 

He’ll hand me a tissue and listen with a vigor that can make me feel like I’m 

standing next to a fire 

 

After too many tears, lot of friends, too many workshops and not enough poetry 

 

I can tell you the Spoken Word club is

A paradox, a refuge, a home, a fire 

 

A space that PK has quilted together mismatched kids and calloused alumni 

 

Made visceral and sentient so that every Tuesday when you walk in

 

You can feel the beat of it thrum low in the air 

I cannot thank PK enough for allowing me to breathe it in