If poets are the legislators of the world, [1]
What am I doing in a private school where rich kids
Learn the world belongs to them?

I’m supposed to go to Harvard, become a doctor.
Class is for getting high marks;
I fear they’ve made a terrible mistake.

What did Mr. Williams think would happen?
What of expulsion? My parent’s opprobrium? —
Your West Wind has lifted me as a cloud! [2]

I rebel against them, against myself, against even you.
My thoughts irritate me; the horizon hurts.
I drown in a swell of chlorine and salt.

The bell rings; the deadline nears:
Today calls me to tomorrow and I am nowhere to found.

I’ve salvaged myself, or a part—
What you left to the Wind, storming across the centuries…

—

[1] Shelley, Percy Bysshe. “A Defence of Poetry.” Poetry Foundation,
poetryfoundation.org/articles/69388/a-defence-of-poetry

[2] Shelley, Percy Bysshe. “Ode to the West Wind.” Poetry Foundation,
poetryfoundation.org/poems/45134/ode-to-the-west-wind

(This is the first poem I’ve written for my MFA program! The assignment was to “submit a poem addressed directly to a favorite poet or author.” I chose Percy Shelley.)