Grade six detention, and master skunk

is watching Puny with indignation. 

 

White streaked tail alert to any

inkling of an indiscretion that might

ricochet its way across the classroom.

 

Black eyes churning the cauldron

of repentance, aware that this is the first

slap on the wrist for the runt of the pack.

 

Sniggering at the teacher’s pronunciation

of “geometric,” what a slipup.

 

Who would have thought

that the teacher had been

listening with the keenness of an owl

scrounging for a black cat

to drape over a full plate of caviar.

 

Old skunky never abides

by students foolish enough

to egg each other on in class.

 

Look at these so called “best mates” now,

shuddering under the weight of their misdeeds,

like a resounding thud of an elephant’s hoof,

smothering its wheezing prey.

 

When the master’s clock

strikes the midnight hour,

all are released to go home,

but not will make it to their lodgings,

least of all the cowardly fox boy.

 

No, Puny gets to be pulverized,

and then gutted on the beach

by the Kraken who’s been hungry for days.

​