Eighth Grade Boys

By Russell J Fee

Reach out, and like the

newly molted crayfish in the room's
aquarium, they scuttle away in their
suddenly too-big bodies, raw

behind claws displayed in attitudes of
threat and challenge.

Some girls are thrilled by this.

Ms. Filopolis

By Russell J Fee

When I check in at school in the morning,
I'm met with the greeting,
"Oh, you must be Ms. Filopolis."

I am used to this by now. Ms. Filopolis
is the teacher I'm substituting for.
I am male, but it doesn't matter what
my or her gender is. For the rest of the day,
I will be referred to as Ms. Filopolis.

If the loud speaker in the room queries,
Ms. Filopolis? I must answer, "Yes."
If asked in the hall if I am Mrs. Steinem,
I must say, "No. I'm Ms. Filopolis."