Freddy and Diana, poets from Mr. Villegas’ fourth grade class at Perez Elementary, are connoisseurs of unique facts: rivers on Mars are made of Kool-Aid, purple feels like October inside a hairy piano. Freddy and Diana help us remember that our dreams feed our technologies, and when we pay attention to our senses, we connect with the world in a special way, which might just be the first step to making it better.
White tastes like blankness and salt.
It smells like nothing but coconuts and paper.
It sounds like a paper screaming not to write on it.
It feels like paper air and smooth, white erasers.
The Red River
I’m writing from a big planet inside Mars that has a little river of red Kool-Aid I’m writing on with a cup. The river sounds like an ocean with lots of waves. It looks dangerous, and it tastes sweet and sugary and wonderful. The air pulls at a few dots of Kool-Aid and splashes them all over me.
Purple smells like a book cover inside a happy face.
It feels like October inside a hairy piano.
It sounds like a purple flower with a bee taking its nectar.
It tastes like the number ten inside a piece of chalk.
I am writing inside October
with a book cover
and I smell letters
with a telephone inside them.
My sanctuary is a clock. When I get inside my clock, I see a bunch of numbers. I smell numbers, and I touch numbers. Numbers, numbers, numbers. My bed is made out of numbers and my clothes, too. Even the pencil I’m writing with is made out of numbers. They are driving me crazy. Even I am made out of numbers.
It’s twelve o’clock. I am going to sleep.