I see the world

from the corner seat

in the last row of history class,

third period,

shoved between two walls

at their intersection,

feet in my chair, knees

to chest.

No windows here:

Just a white board shoved to the front

and a teacher

who knows everything, she says.

And I believe it,

sometimes.

But mostly, I believe the words

as they come up behind her;

words don't lie

but people can.

And do.

Hence, we have the world.

I see it all

from the last row,

and I believe it

too.