DON'T CARE 1962.

Elaine sits in class;

the teacher is writing on the board,
the white chalk on black board.

John smiled at me on the bus.

It thrilled me that he did.
My sister didn't see.
Well if she did she didn't say
and she would have done I know.

My own smile to hold in my head

and remember forever and a day.

The fuss about him and me

has died down since my sister blabbed
about him kissing me that Sunday.
He kissed me before that. At school.
Just out of the blue.

Elaine picks up her pen

and writes in her exercise book
what is written on the board.
The teacher stands facing the class.
He looks pleased with himself.
The pen nib isn't much good.
It blobs. She dabs it with blotting paper.

I dreamed of him last night.

John kissed me. He was in my room.
My sister was asleep. He was in my room
standing by the door. He blew me a kiss.

Mum was annoyed that he came last Sunday.

As if I had planned it. Don't you do anything she said.
Do any what? He kissed me. Warm kiss.

The pen blobs again. Damn it.

She dabs at it with blotting paper.

When he kissed me I felt funny inside.

My mind seems elsewhere. I love him. I don't care.