The crush rolled over her
like a truck
that’s right, like her daddy’s
red Ford pickup
all four tires
one after the other
till she felt completely
flattened

smushed by love.

The object of her affection?

Mr. Jasper
science teacher extraordinaire.

Maybe it was the way he pulled
his brown hair back in a ponytail
or the crazy ties he wore
or the way he hummed while
they dissected earthworms.

Maybe it was because
he told her she asked intelligent questions
something no one had ever said before.

Maybe, maybe. . .      maybe.
So here she was,
crushed as could be
tread marks all up and down her body
and she wondered . .
would it be an intelligent question
to ask him how
to dissect the human heart?

From Poems from Homeroom: A Writer's Place to Start (Henry Holt, 2002)
Used with the author's permission.