Inking the Koi

She said "I want you to feel the real live fish,
to experience the texture of the fish.
I want you to incorporate
science into art, just like Matisse.

This is why I'm standing here holding a large,
dead fish, waiting for Katie Jo
to finish using the roller so that I can
ink my fish before I slap it down on a piece
of green construction paper, making a print
of its dry, flaky scales.
I wish art teachers would stick to
crayons and washable paints
instead of trying to be creative,
especially when being creative means
playing with dead fish.

Last year I sat next to a kid named Jamie
who ate his crayons and his boogers,
but didn't eat cafeteria food
except for fishburgers.
He like his mom's pb&j sandwiches,
browned apple slices and rice krispie treats
and always brought a juice box.
Even though his food made him a dork,
no one made fun of Jamie because of his
Super Mario lunchbox.
Those things were cool in second grade,
when we were all just kids.

Now it isn't cool to have a lunchbox
any more, so Jamie brings his lunch
in a brown paper bag just like all the other kids
whose parents don't make them buy school food.
Today I'm going to try to smuggle my koi
out of the art room in my lunch bag,
to see if I can get Jamie to eat it,
to experience the real live fish,
which is no longer alive,
but is now starting to smell
more like science
and less like art.