and the whole Fifth-Grade Class is upset (which is why we’re writing again: you told us to tell you when “anything related to school” upsets the class, so now we’re telling). You see, just last week, thanks to Mr Lee’s connections (that’s what he calls the friends who do him favors), our Fifth-Grade Science Class, all twelve, until the Klein twins got mumps, —together, of course— and had to stay home, so we invited Mike Rahn and Clark Taft, the two smartest kids in the Fourth-Grade, to come instead, since Mr Lee had specified there would be twelve students visiting the Sandusky Labs for our winter-term science field trip, and no one wants to see two favors go to waste. Dinny—that’s Mr Lee: he asked us all to call him that, and now he’s the one teacher at school we’re on first-name, or maybe nick-name terms with . . . whom. Anyway, Dinny has this friend Mr Morton who works in the Labs (he told us right away, “Call me Mort, everyone does”—first names must be a sort of code for Scientists), on the development of cancerous tumors that he trained to grow in mice (induced was the word he used).
What do You think about The Best American Poetry 2012?
