A Note to Mr Roch

School Report

We never could remember
how to spell diarrhoea.
It was easier to invoke
a chill or an upset stomach
than to search for a dictionary.
But it didn't matter
what my mother wrote
as long as her note
excused me from football
or rugby or cross-country.

Finally I openly rebelled
and raised a two-finger V
in time to be recorded for posterity
on the annual school photograph:
a brief yet permanent moment
of glory and defiance;
it went unnoticed for months
and prints were sold.
When parents eventually complained
I was caned and, unceremoniously, expelled.

Poem copyright Bernard Young