Can the Words Speak?

for thirty years
the high school boys
teased her, plucking out
invisible eyebrows, beating
on their desks to annoy.

her own brand of amusement
came after tests, looking
at answers scratched
on plain paper

the math so twisted, her
smile smirking and her
fingers placing grades
in grade books.

she would never forget
some, those with red hair, or maybe
those with self-induced tattoos
on pale skinny arms,
creative writing for the world.

mocking her could send her off,
they knew, but grabbing
chalk and printing pages,
home work
assignments, pastel graceless
punditry caught those
minds and made them copy.

who knew the power
of those demon words?