Attentive Attentiveness

A memoir from my schooldays ….

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Whilst I look at you, paying attention, you think,

really I am elsewhere, paying attention, and I don’t think.

I don’t think of the knowledge you think you are sharing with me,

but I do think, and with thinking, I pay attention to

the fact that my knees are fast-stuck with chewing gum to

the underside of my table,

and the fact that my feet are crunching on biro,

and the fact that I am being smirked at,

and the fact that someone’s compass has scratched all of their

hates into the topside of my table.

And, when I hear you say, ‘Right who’s been paying attention?’,

I know that I have been paying attention,

and that your question is there for the taking,

so I put my hand up and stand,

standing to attention, keen for you to see

my attentiveness.

‘Right, young Ginger,’ you say.

‘Right, why did so many ordinary people pay attention to Hitler’s hate speeches?’

I mumble, confused.

‘Speak up, girl! Speak up, so your audience can hear you! Loud and clear!’

‘WHO’S HITLER?’ I shout, loud and clear.

And the fact is, that now, thanks to my attentiveness; now,

right now, in this moment – I have everyone paying attention!

 

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, April 2019

 

Image by Wokandapix from Pixabay

Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian

Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.

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