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Gym Class
by Neal Levin

The locker room smells nasty,
And my gym shoes smell like feet.
My socks smell like they’re made of cheese
Or spoiled rotten meat.

The toilets are all backed up,
And the floors are soaking wet.
The stench around the benches
Is from everybody’s sweat.

The shower stalls are moldy.
All the uniforms are stiff.
The air reeks of deodorant;
I dare you—take a whiff!

I’m not the smartest person,
But I know this much is true:
Instead of calling it P.E.
It should be called P.U.

 

Text © Neal Levin, reprinted from If Kids Ruled the School published by Meadowbrook Press. Illustration © Stephen Carpenter. Any copying or use of this poem or illustration without consent is unlawful.

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