The Cup Poem by Chad Parenteau

A girl walks across a room
acting like she doesn’t notice
the boys reaching behind her,
pretending to pull up her pink skirt
and white sweater—the outfit she knows they like.
In a yellowed-white china cup she holds
her mother’s favorite brand of tea,
dark as burnt wood.
As she walks to her reserved chair,
she notices a boy sitting alone at a table
with his back turned to everyone.
She looks over his shoulder
and sees him drawing an alien flower in crayon.
She decides to show the boy what true art is
and spills some of her hot tea on his back.
The boy shouts and turns around.
The girl sits down in her chair
with the cup of tea on her lap, laughs,
and tells everyone he’s only mad at her
because she won’t let him have a sip
of her wonderful tea.
The boy then reaches down
to the sole of his right sneaker
and takes a clump of dirt and pebble
from one of the sole’s many grooves.
Without a word, he tosses
the pellet of earth at the girl,
and it sinks into the china cup
she’s about to drink from.
The girl screeches, falls backward in her chair,
and smashes the cup, still in her hand.
There’s no blood; but the girl,
now covered in ash-dark spots, cries
as the boy is taken away to be disciplined.
The boy smiles as he is led out of the classroom
and into the hallway.