01.07.2021
The One About School
It was like any other dayback in the '60s,
you woke up early
because you had to go to school:
a pen, inkwell and board
you'd place into your satchel.
It's nine in the morning
and you head towards the street,
chestnuts are tossed in the air
and they must've fallen from a gutter.
The teacher opened the door
and in came a flock of sheep1,
all of their wooden clogs
were left under the staircase.
You'd have to present yourself
at the beginning of class,
and when they passed you the list you'd raise your right hand
you'd say: 'Present and long live Spain'.
No one had on tracksuits
or anything similar to that,
just a pair of pants
with patches on the back,
and tons of cups and balls
placed in your pockets.
And when it was time for recess
and you hadn't finished the classwork,
you'd bring out some sweetbread
and you'd listen up.
Rivers and mountains
were hard to stick in your head,
the names of soccer players
were all that filled your head,
you knew the lineups
even the ones for Pontevedra.
How many times have you been told
not to hold the pen like that,
no matter how cheap it may be,
and you stained the desk.
You went home and ate
the fava beans in a rush,
you came smelling like chorizo
and spitting out blood sausage,
you didn't even have time
to clean your trap.
In the evening you draw
which is what you like most,
with paper and a pencil,
you draw what you want.
- 1. school children