Coin Drive

There’s a coin drive going on at our school
for children hurt by the hurricane.
Teacher says, “Handful of dimes is fine.
But only give if you want to share.”

Momma says, “Those people should have known.
Should have done more than they did to get out.”
Poppa says, “Look how those people stole.
Criminals. Animals, them. Their kind.”

I saw the pictures, too, myself.

People with nothing, no cars, for sure.
Swollen old ladies could barely walk.
Crazy boys with stolen guns,
but also daddies grabbing bread.

I saw the pictures, too, myself.

So many bodies floating, dead.
Waiting, water creeping up,
up past neck, past mouth, past eyes.
How long did they wait for help?

I feel proud for the fifty cents
I put today in the coin drive jar.
I feel proud that I can say:
I saw the pictures for myself.

Wong, Janet. Coin Drive. Janet S. Wong. November 15, 2008.


The Girl Who Makes the Cymbals Bang

I’m the girl who makes the cymbals bang—
It used to be a boy
That got to play them in the past
Which always would annoy

Me quite a bit. Though I complained,
Our teacher Mister Cash
Said, “Sorry, girls don’t have the strength
To come up with a crash.”

“Oh yeah?” said I. “Please give them here!”
And there and then, I slammed
Together those brass plates so hard
His eardrums traffic-jammed.

He gulped and gaped, and I could tell
His old ideas were bending—
So now me and my cymbals give
Each song a real smash ending.

-X.J. Kennedy


Kennedy, X.J. “The Girl Who Makes the Cymbals Bang.” The 20th Century Children’s
Poetry Treasury. Jack Prelutsky, ed. New York: 1999. 17.