Recorded for Poem-a-Day, February 11, 2019.
About this Poem 

“In January 2016, I was teaching poetry at an international school in Jakarta, Indonesia. A half hour before my final class of the day, there was a terrorist attack across town. I was asked to teach my class of sixth graders as though nothing was amiss in order to keep them occupied, while the school staff initiated a lockdown and tried to reach out to parents. As I taught, I felt the strangest déjà vu. I had been in this exact moment before, down to the classroom in an international school mid-terrorist attack. I recognized all the roles, I had just been recast as a different player this time. When I got home, I read 'USAvCuba' by Hanif Abdurraqib and 'The Day Lady Died' by Frank O'Hara, and those two poems gave me the keys to unlock this one.”
—Sarah Kay

Jakarta, January

After Hanif Abdurraqib & Frank O’Hara
 
It is the last class of the day & I am teaching a classroom of sixth graders about poetry & across town a man has walked into a Starbucks & blown himself up while some other men throw grenades in the street & shoot into the crowd of civilians & I am 27 years old which means I am the only person in this room who was alive when this happened in New York City & I was in eighth grade & sitting in my classroom for the first class of the day & I made a joke about how mad everyone was going to be at the pilot who messed up & later added, how stupid do you have to be for it to happen twice? & the sixth graders are practicing listing sensory details & somebody calls out blue skies as a sight they love & nobody in this classroom knows what has happened yet & they do not know that the school is in lockdown which is a word we did not have when I was in sixth grade & the whole class is laughing because a boy has called out dog poop as a smell he does not like & what is a boy if not a glowing thing learning what he can get away with & I was once a girl in a classroom on the lucky side of town who did not know what had happened yet & electrical fire is a smell I did not know I did not like until my neighborhood smelled that way for weeks & blue skies is a sight I have never trusted again & poetry is what I reached for in the days when the ash would not stop falling & there is a sixth grade girl in this classroom whose father is in that Starbucks & she does not know what has happened yet & what is a girl if not a pulsing thing learning what the world will take from her & what if I am still a girl sitting in my classroom on the lucky side of town making a careless joke looking at the teacher for some kind of answer & what if I am also the teacher without any answers looking back at myself & what is an adult if not a terrified thing desperate to protect something you cannot save? & how lucky do you have to be for it to miss you twice? & tomorrow a sixth grade girl will come to class while her father has the shrapnel pulled from his body & maybe she will reach for poetry & the sky outside the classroom is so terribly blue & the students are quiet & looking at me & waiting for a grown-up or a poem or an answer or a bell to ring & the bell rings & they float up from their seats like tiny ghosts & are gone

Copyright © 2019 by Sarah Kay. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on February , 2019, by the Academy of American Poets.

Copyright © 2019 by Sarah Kay. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on February , 2019, by the Academy of American Poets.

Sarah Kay

Sarah Kay

Sarah Kay is the author of four poetry books, including All Our Wild Wonder (Hachette Books, 2018) and The Type (Hachette Books, 2016).