Skip navigation

We’d known him, back in the day at dear old Millard Fillmore Elementary,

As Three-Desks Tommy, highly imaginative monicker

Deriving from his decidedly unimaginative first name

And the fact that he, indeed, had three desks,

Each of them stuffed chock-full with uncounted numbers of pencils and erasers,

Any number of homework papers (usually A’s and A-pluses,

Though there were the odd B’s and B-minuses as well,

As he was a bright, in fact inordinately bright, child,

But sometimes given to sloppiness and stray pencil marks

And a predilection for not reading the directions completely)

Eerily accurate renditions of dinosaurs,

Wildly inventive stories featuring rainbow-hued dragons,

Noble and voluble talking bovines,

And knights and knaves of every size, shape, and suzerain,

Stories which resided cheek-to-jowl with some bit of uneaten sandwich

Until such time it made its existence abundantly clear to the custodial staff.

We’d never stopped to think much about his miniature Maginot Line;

It was what Tommy did and had always done for as long as we could remember,

Though there were some teachers and an assistant principal or two

Who thought the whole thing was permissive bordering on coddling

(His teacher was a veteran of the wars, and well-insulated by tenure,

But she had grown weary of over-glasses glares and snide asides

When Tommy’s name came up in the staff room,

A death by a thousand cuts and all that),

And one day, while moving one of his desks to clear space for Simon Says,

It had caught on a sticky spot, overturning onto a soon-to-be-fractured toe.

When he came back to school, accompanied by an ungainly cast

And an equally ungainly pair of crutches, his teacher took him aside.

Tommy, she purred, maybe someone is trying to tell you something.

The other kids all make due with one desk,

And I’m sure you can find a way to as well, don’t you, Tommy?

So Tommy embarked on a great cleansing of his little fiefdom,

Filling several garbage cans with his collected works,

(Math papers and mastodons, bologna and Brobdingnagians)

And afterward he’d kept himself to one standard desk,

Duly filing, returning, and circular-filing his paperwork

As the occasion demanded (though one time Murph Dunkirk

Asked Three-Desks if he minded downsizing;

Tommy just shrugged, and said Well, it’s better than a broken foot.)

And maybe in his dreams he had a thousand desks,

A thousand tops to fling open, a thousand repositories for light and legend

Or perhaps he never gave it so much as a second thought,

No way to know now, one supposes,

Though if anything out of the ordinary had come his way,

We would’ve probably heard.

 

 

 

About these ads

7 Comments

  1. Public schools are always hardest on the different ones, the dreamers and the characters. Fortunately, many get over this experience, and go on to live happy, meaningful lives. Hope Tommy did, too.
    Nicely done,
    Bill

  2. I knew this was going to be an interesting one as soon as I saw the title!

    “The Boy With Too Many Desks”.

    And, Millard Fillmore Elementary. W.K. Kortas, you are “Mr. Upstate New York, 2014″! Wasn’t good ol’ Millard from Kinderhook?

    “Three Desks Tommy”!

    Enjoyed this immensely, W.K.!

    Glen

  3. My error! Martin Van Buren was the one from Kinderhook!

    I just read that Millard Fillmore died in Buffalo. What is it with presidents dying in Buffalo? At least two, as far as I know. (The other was, of course was William McKinley, who was shot in Buffalo by an anarchist as he was getting off of a train. He was NOT shot by a disappointing office seeker. That was James Hiram Garfield. For more information on that, see “Office Seeker, Disappointed)

    Glen

    • glenrussellslater
    • Posted February 14, 2014 at 3:34 pm
    • Permalink
    • Reply

    I wrote a comment on this a couple of days ago on here, but it’s gone.

    Glen

    • glenrussellslater
    • Posted February 15, 2014 at 3:16 am
    • Permalink
    • Reply

    Well, at any rate, W.K., what I said, in a nutshell, was that I liked the story, and how I got a kick out of the kid’s nickname (Three- Desks Tommy) and also I like the title (“The Boy with Too Many Desks”) That title certainly got me curious to read it! I’m glad I did. It’s quirky and very different, but I like stuff like that.

    “Dear old Millard Fillmore Elementary!!!” Millard Fillmore, yet ANOTHER reference to upstate New York! Fillmore came from upstate New York. I get the feeling that you really like it up in upstate New York! I used to live upstate. I lived in Albany, Ravena, Kingston, Syracuse, Beacon, Ossining (that’s not really upstate), and I was an assistant camp counselor in Remsen (which is near to Utica) many, many years ago.

    Glen

    • You want to start a good argument, try to determine where Upstate begins and Downstate ends. I know lots of people who think Upstate starts as soon as you hit Yonkers.

  4. Last we heard in these parts, he took up the habit of nibbling on the desk corners; said it had protein and gave him power.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

grapeling

it could be that

Notes from Around the Block

Storytelling, Writing, People, and Education

Where Have You Gone Andy Van Slyke?

Embrace the adequacy and govern yourselves accordingly.

Verdun2's Blog

Just another WordPress.com weblog

The On Deck Circle

Baseball History, Commentary and Analysis

WordPress.com

WordPress.com is the best place for your personal blog or business site.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 130 other followers

%d bloggers like this: