[Ariel]: 727.Poetry.Sine Divided By Cosine

A voice like rusty nails
going on
and on
and on
about sines
when I want
to know about
signs
of change.

She goes off on
a tangent
about tangents,
and all I can do
is doodle on my paper
and try to ignore the
volume
of everything.

The kid to my
right passes me
a note.

“Just ten minutes
until the bell rings.”

I don’t know
how I’ll
make it.