Badgerblog

Ur legs that look
like they belong 2 a
chicken. Ur legs that
need more meat
on ya’ bones. Ur
short but long legs
that don’t have no
kind of hair on them.
Ur I need 2 join the
track team legs. Ur
thighs as skinny as
tooth picks. Ur dark
black-looking legs.
Ur legs that don’t
really take up that
much space in the
car legs, you know,
the same ones that
will stand up for your
older sisters when
we’re injured legs.

Amber, seventh grade, Del Valle Middle School

It looks like a metal snake I had to tame. It
hissed electric guitar chords, and I liked how
it sounded so I didn’t stop. It had a sour
smell and tasted poisonous. I got the feeling
it was telling me to stop but I was
testing it to see how far I could push before
this venomous reptile would bite me. I was
scared and excited at the same time, kind of
like listening for the lottery numbers late at
night, scared you might lose but excited
there’s a possibility you might win.
When I was done I heard cheering, as if
I’d won a staring contest with death, looking
him dead in the eye, his cold black eyes.

Angel, eighth grade, Del Valle Middle School

The rusted hulk of a car blew up after having hit the tree. The person driving the car rolled out. I poked him with a stick. He was severely burned, but he continued to twitch. I giggled at the irony of the sight, for he was the same man who hit my turtle and little sister a few days before. You see, my little sister had been walking her turtle, Skittleman Franklin, when the inconsiderate son-of-a-biscuit swerved onto the sidewalk and hit them. They were immediately rushed to the emergency room. My sister only had a couple of broken ribs, but, unfortunately, Skittleman died.

I poked the man again. He moaned and continued twitching. As I saw the ambulance approaching, I kicked him a few times in the face (and the ribs, for my sister), jumped on my bike and pedaled away. I decided to buy some cheese to celebrate the avenging of Skittleman Franklin.

Ashley and Andrea, eigth grade, Del Valle Middle School

Photo courtesy of Lisa Solonynko.

It was all a dream to have more than I had.
It was all a dream to see leaves fall in the spring.
It was all a dream to cast spells on those who were rude.
It was all a dream to want what I didn’t need.
It was all a dream to be a kid and become older.
Today I say to you “It was all a dream.”
But if this is true am I a dream or a nightmare?

Amber, sixth grade, Del Valle Middle School