every year the kids take a field trip.
giddy with excitement they line up.
the location is kept a secret.
they never go to the same place twice.
usually it is a small town in the middle of nowhere.
but one it was a major city.
though the kids got too out of control.
I am sure you could find the newspaper clippings.
this year the bus hurdled down a tiny country road
ending in a small quiet Hamlet town by the ocean.
the children marveled at the orange and yellow hued trees.
against the blue of the sky and ocean.
some have never seen a seagull before.
The town when the bus finally stopped
was even more quiet than usual
being the dinner hour
the perfect hour
the kids all talked about what they were going to eat.
Before they were aloud off the bus.
The driver reminded them of the rules.
1. Stay with your assigned buddy
2. Be as polite as can be to the locals.
3. Always wear the required uniform.
4. Don’t get greedy.
5. Have fun.
The driver smiled as the kids filed off.
He always took pleasure in this day.
How the kids ran in glee.
Smiles hidden beneath the paper mache masks.
their little hands clutching their little knives.
he never thought about the locals.
the pain inflicted with each jab and slash.
never really thought about the screams.
mostly due to his own brutality.
can’t have cops trying to save the day.
kids need to eat.
they deserve their own thanksgiving.
who cares if it is a month before everyone else’s.
when they returned to the bus at the predetermined time.
as good children ought to do.
he asked if they had their fill.
he could tell by their lazy lethargic response they had.
though one little piggy got greedy
and to the bus drivers dismay
vomited during the trek home.
and as he cleaned up
he reminded all the kids
this is why we have rule number 4.