Ghoul Days

School
was an unpleasant
necessity fpr me
because I had
no reason or desire
to remember anything.

The old church
on the corner
was a bleak relic
a tombstone
to sanctimonious
Christianity.

The blaring sound
of a bugle
announced the start
of another day
of indoctrination
and organised tedium.

Lined up like soldiers
on parade
we were marched
to classrooms
to the rhythmic rattle
of kettle drums.

In my final year
I hated the teacher
who placed me
in the row of dunces
and used me
to clean the schoolyard.