The Last Fifth Grade of Emerson Elementary Read online

  Some girls are sporty. Some are brainy.

  I’m next to one who is complainy.

  Why wasn’t I moved? I cannot say.

  I’d rather sit far, far away.

  I wish I sat by someone new.

  If you were I, what would you do?

  November 6

  A LIMERICK

  Katie McCain

  There once was a girl named McCain,

  who sat next to someone insane.

  He thought it was cool

  to act like a fool,

  but his poems gave her a migraine.

  November 7

  TWO FIBONACCI POEMS

  Newt Mathews

  I

  don’t

  want to

  revise this

  poem. I like it.

  These are the words my brain thought of

  when our class learned about the Fibonacci sequence.

  I

  like

  my school,

  Emerson

  Elementary.

  If bulldozers demolish it,

  how will everyone at my new school know who I am?

  November 10

  OPPOSITE POEM

  Hannah Wiles

  At my mom’s house it’s just us girls.

  Calm and quiet. Nice and neat.

  Our Friday-night tradition is

  movies and manicures.

  Shoshanna usually sleeps over.

  My mom gets up early

  (she calls it an old army habit)

  and makes banana french toast.

  Shoshanna and I wash the dishes.

  At my dad’s house

  it’s a chaos of little boys

  crashing and bashing.

  Every night someone cries

  over a bump or a bruise,

  a toy or lost shoes.

  Shoshanna won’t come over.

  She says it’s too loud,

  toys scattered everywhere.

  And sharing a bathroom

  with two younger brothers?

  Don’t get me started.

  November 11

  A HISTORY QUESTION

  George Furst

  The first time I got to sleep over

  at my dad’s new apartment

  I asked him a history question:

  When the people (meaning me)

  don’t agree with decisions

  the government (meaning him)

  is making, how can those people

  tell the leaders they are unhappy?

  He thought about my question

  while he cooked our spaghetti

  because my dad can’t take a hint.

  Then he said, “A good first step

  is writing a petition.”

  So I wrote a petition to my parents,

  explaining that I should get a vote

  when they make decisions

  about our family, but

  I don’t have any brothers and sisters.

  Can a petition work

  when it only has one signature?

  November 12

  INDOOR RECESS

  Edgar Lee Jones

  I don’t want to play chess

  with Raj today. I’ve got

  the best beanbag chair

  in the reading corner and a book

  to make the rain disappear.

  In this chapter, the hero

  is galloping across sunny fields.

  (What are Rennie and George

  whispering about

  and why can’t they do it

  somewhere else?)

  I keep reading, find out

  the hero is a king in disguise.

  (I hope they don’t

  ask me to play cards.

  He’s about to save the kingdom!)

  I want to see how my book ends,

  but Rennie moves closer,

  says I’m the best writer in our class.

  She and George and Norah

  need my help. (I don’t know

  how to write a petition.

  Why can’t they go away?)

  Can’t they see

  I want to be

  alone with my book?

  November 13

  WINDOW

  Ben Kidwell

  During math, I’m like a dog

  that wants to play outside

  but no one will open the door.

  I can’t hold still. I feel itchy.

  I look at the trees through the window,

  toss something at Sydney’s desk.

  Want to play? She shakes her head.

  I bite my nails, chew erasers,

  look out the window.

  Green grass. Bare branches.

  Will they still be here next year?

  I tap my feet, click my teeth,

  dream up stories about dogs

  living wild behind a supermarket.

  I can almost see

  yellow eyes out there, near the trees.

  They’re looking back at me.

  November 14

  RALPH WALDO EMERSON

  Rachel Chieko Stein

  I can picture Ralph Waldo Emerson

  the way you described him, Ms. Hill…

  wandering through the forest,

  looking at trees and birds,

  feeling like he’s part

  of something big.

  Sometimes I see Ben

  walking near the edge of the woods

  at recess. I told Sydney

  Ben must be a poet,

  in love with nature

  like Ralph Waldo Emerson.

  Sydney said I am crazy

  and that no one understood

  the poem you read to us today.

  But when I listened

  to Ralph Waldo Emerson’s words,

  my ears heard a river bubbling,

  and wind rustling the branches

  of a tall old tree. I think

  when Ben isn’t paying attention

  he must be hearing

  the river and the wind

  like Ralph Waldo Emerson.

  November 17

  WHO DO YOU LIKE?

  Sydney Costley

  My friend

  passed me a note

  during Technology.

  It said, “Who do you like?”

  in purple pen.

  Over the letter i

  she put a heart

  instead of a dot.

  I wrote back, “Why?”

  I like the same kids

  as always. I like

  you.

  She wrote,

  “Don’t you wish

  you were in love

  like Gaby & Mark?”

  I pressed the note flat

  against my jeans.

  I looked at my friend

  and shook my head.

  No.

  Not like Gaby and Mark.

  She pulled the note away.

  My hand felt hot

  where her fingers touched.

  She wrote with her purple pen

  and gave me back the note.

  “Top-secret.

  I like someone.

  He is in our class.”

  I threw her note away.

  November 18

  SPECIAL PERSON’S DAY

  Hannah Wiles

  When my mom came to school

  for Special Person’s Day

  I was so happy!

  Everyone in fifth grade was staring

  at her uniform. They said “Wow!”

  when I told them she’s going overseas.

  My mom noticed Norah

  didn’t have any family to sit with,

  and next thing I knew the two of them

  were speaking Arabic together

  because my mom is a translator.

  Norah was sad that her parents

  had to work today, but

  she had a big smile on her face

  after she talked to my m
om.

  When my mom left, she said goodbye

  to Norah and told Shoshanna

  she’d miss our Friday nights together.

  (She doesn’t know we’re not getting along.)

  Everyone calls her Major

  except me. On Special Person’s Day

  I felt lucky because only I

  get to call her Mom.

  November 19

  MY NAME IS THE ROCK

  Tyler La Roche

  My name is La Roche.

  That means “The Rock,”

  so maybe my ancestors lived on one.

  But The Rock could also mean rock music.

  When our band practices,

  Mark’s guitar goes wrow wrow,

  Ben’s drumsticks beat tick tick crash,

  Jason’s sax sings bebop bebop,

  Raj’s fingers skid across the piano keys,

  and I’ve got my trumpet

  bap-bah bap-bah da da.

  We need a cool name for the talent show.

  I said we should be the La Roche Band,

  because that means “The Rock Band.”

  Jason thinks we should call the band

  Zoo Creatures and wear animal masks.

  I’m fine with that. At school,

  I’m still the new kid. Hardly anyone

  knows me, which means

  I can be anything. Even

  a trumpet-playing buffalo.

  November 19

  TALENT SHOW

  Rajesh Rao

  My whole family was sitting in the cafeteria.

  Aunts, uncles, cousins, even my grandparents.

  My three sisters were the first act.

  When they came onstage

  their ankle bells and costumes looked

  too bright for our worn-out school.

  The music started.

  I’ve heard it a million times.

  They are always practicing

  classical Indian dance at home

  and at their Kathak class.

  My sisters moved their hands

  as if they wanted everyone to come closer

  and listen to the folktale their dance tells.

  I wanted to be in the talent show, too.

  I wanted to play piano for Mark’s band.

  But my parents didn’t want me to spend

  so much time at Jason’s house,

  practicing rock music.

  “Homework first,” Dad always tells me.

  “It’s different for sons.”

  21 Noviembre

  EL DUETO

  Gaby Vargas

  Sin un amigo

  ¡el escenario vacío se vería tan grande!

  La cafetería está llena de asientos.

  Las familias vienen al talent show.

  Se me acelera el corazón,

  un colibrí listo para volar.

  Las luces del escenario están calientes,

  pero Mark está a mi lado con su guitarra.

  Se ve guapo con camisa blanca y corbata.

  El pelo lo tiene engominado y en punta.

  Lo veo hacerle señas a su mamá.

  Eso es lindo también.

  Me aliso la falda con manos temblorosas.

  Mark toca las primeras notas.

  Escucho a Mark tocar la canción que le enseñé.

  Respiro hondo.

  Empiezo a cantar.

  November 21

  DUET

  Translated by Gaby Vargas and Mark Fernandez

  Without a friend

  the empty stage looks very big!

  The cafeteria is full of seats.

  The families come to the talent show.

  My heart beats fast,

  a hummingbird going to fly.

  The lights of the stage are hot,

  but Mark is to my side with his guitar.

  Looks cute with white shirt and tie.

  He has his hair with gel. It is pointy.

  I see him make signs to his mom.

  That is cute also.

  I smooth my skirt. My hands tremble.

  Mark touches the strings.

  I hear Mark play the song I teach him.

  I breathe deep.

  I begin to sing.

  November 24

  LEFT OUT

  Rajesh Rao

  Edgar was my friend.

  We shared a seat on the bus,

  played chess at recess.

  Now he’s always with George Furst,

  working on secret projects.

  November 25

  THANKSGIVING

  Mark Fernandez

  My family’s Thanksgiving tradition was

  after the guests were all gone

  my father took me camping, just me and him.

  Even in November, it was warm by the campfire.

  The firelight made shadows.

  Papi told stories about growing up

  with Tio Carlos and Tio Dan,

  the pranks they played on each other.

  When we camped, my dad always made pancakes.

  They tasted of smoke from the fire

  even when I drenched them in syrup.

  This year, my mom is taking me and my sisters

  to Disney World over Thanksgiving break.

  Tyler says I’m lucky, but I’m not.

  Riding roller coasters and meeting Mickey Mouse

  won’t make me feel less sad

  about Thanksgiving without my father.

  No matter where I am, when I look up at the sky,

  if I see stars, las estrellas, in the dark

  I will remember camping with my dad.

  December 1

  HOW TO MAKE A MR. STICK GUY FLIP BOOK

  Jason Chen

  For Mark

  Find a pack of sticky notes.

  Think of a story starring

  Mr. Stick Guy

  and his Misadventures of Mayhem.

  How about…

  Mr. Stick Guy rides his skateboard.

  Oh, no! He ollies right off a cliff

  and lands on a giant cactus.

  Thorns stick out of his stick butt.

  Or…

  Mr. Stick Guy fires a cannon at

  Other Stick Guy (OSG for short).

  OSG says, “Ouch!”

  Or my favorite…

  Mr. Stick Guy and OSG

  in “The Bulldozer Battle.”

  Draw Mr. Stick Guy on the bottom

  of a sticky note. Make sure

  he’s only as tall as your thumbnail.

  Draw him again on the next page,

  and again, and again.

  Every time, change his stick arms and legs

  a little bit. Use up every page

  of the sticky pad, but save the big crash

  for the last sheet.

  Flip through the pages under your desk.

  Laugh!

  Don’t get caught.

  This Activity Is Appropriate Only for Recess.

  —The Management

  December 2

  TIME CAPSULE RAP

  Edgar Lee Jones

  Hey, me from the future!

  This is a message from me,

  the kid you used to be,

  known as Eddie Jones,

  and sometimes Edgar Lee.

  Do folks in the future

  call you Mr. Jones,

  Mr. Grown-Up,

  Suit-Wearing Jones?

  How tall are those

  grown-up bones?

  Hey, me from the future!

  This is a message from me

  on a time capsule ride,

  years flash by in warp drive

  and I’m coming to you live

  from (count ’em) twenty-five

  years in your past.

  I want spoilers, man.

  I’ve got to know my own story.

  Am I quiet and shy?

  Do I chase fame and glory?

  Hey, me from the future!

 
This is a message from me.

  When the time capsule’s opened,

  who will you see

  in my fifth-grade poetry?

  A stranger, a reader,

  a poet, a brain?

  Will you forget who I was

  or stay just the same?

  If I don’t help

  write that petition,

  will it be

  something I’m sorry for

  when you’re

  future me?

  December 3

  ANYTHING

  Sydney Costley

  Ms. Hill,

  I’m glad you’re the only one

  who reads our poems.

  Maybe a stranger will read them

  in twenty-five years when they open

  the time capsule, but I’ll be old by then.

  I like being able to write private stuff

  and know that you are listening.

  Does anyone in our class

  write about what makes them happy?

  I love running and swimming.

  I love my dog, Shaggy. He runs and swims, too.

  I love sunny days and going to the beach

  with my sister and Rachel.

  I think if you put our poems up in the hallway

  the way you do with our other writing projects,

  people would write poems about stupid stuff

  like going to the mall and eating ice cream.

  My favorite flavor is cookie dough.

  I bet you like butter pecan.

  Old-fashioned and kind of nutty.

  Thanks for letting us write about

  whatever we want in our poems.

  Thanks for listening.

  December 4

  RENNIE AND PHOENIX

  Brianna Holmes

  When it’s warm out

  my mom drops me

  at the playground

  before school.

  She can’t afford

  to miss her morning class.

  There’s parents chatting,

  kids playing.

  Someone always

  watches out for me

  until the first bell rings.

  When it’s cold,

  Mom drops me off

  in the library

  before school.