The Accumulation of Facts

"Nine into x minus y

is equal to..."

Drrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

DDRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

The sharp corners of the room; closing in,

but staying where they are.

The tiles on the floor, the cracks in them.

The pretty hairs on heads made up in really cool ways,

I imagine someone staring at my head,

Not so prettily done.

The only objective - keep hair off sweaty neck.

(But I'm not alone, there are others like me)

Again; corners, tiles, heads. 

More corners, tiles and heads.

Then my vision closes in on KINLEY

Actually I can only see the KIN

But I know what it is.

I STARE.

The blue. The white.

Ahhh, the beautiful combination.

It has captured every atom 

of my concentration.

ie, if my concentration was a tanglible substance...

Hooked on to the colours'duet

with the crescendo of 

Drrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr -

the vehicles on the road,

I have now accumulated facts

And learnt not a word nor number of math.

[[ Note: I dont call this a poem. Only a consequence of my boredom in class. You call it what you may. ]]