School Suite

by Merkin


Week Three, Same Day:  Mr. Rutter

"Did you hear about the new gym teacher?"
"No, who is it?"
"Some guy named Rutter."
"Where's he from?"
"I dunno."
"What's he like?"
"I dunno."

XIV.  Mr. Rutter

Young sticks, though green and freely bent
respond to care with shape and set,
but made to grow restrained, may twist
from strains or force they can't resist.

His own hard husk, now thick and dry
dared not reveal the how or why
or when his self was forced to jell
its direction, thrust into hell.

He learned, through rape and rope and lock
of passion's rage within the dark:
his father forged his bonds complete,
denied dissent, forced his defeat.

He learned debased and raw submission,
learned not to strive without permission,
then, even though his father's death
gave freedom to explore the breadth

of a world spread wide through books and tasks,
his mind devised compliant masks
to pretend hope and ape ambition.
While inwardly he chose sedition

from any goal of honest aim;
instead, his god, the drug of pain,
he'd force in turn on other victims,
through acts which fed his own afflictions.

Those monstrous skills he'd wept to learn
he now embraced, their lessons earned:
he'd seek to lure compliant youth
whose search for thrills enabled truth

to be withheld, and lust prevail –
until their will, like his, would fail.
For tragically, within his reach,
those innocents were his to teach.




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