‘Like a coconut in a bank vault’ : Group Similes at Taft

Peace circles make me rattled
like a spooky, scary skeleton
like Trump speaking
like lollipops and near car accidents
like poetry
like formative assesments
like pills and medication
like live snakes
like a baby rattle shaking in the palm of
an infant.

Grumpy
like a cat in the rain
like a flick to the head
like a stomp on the foot
like the dwarf
like rain at a picnic
like hot coffee turned cold
like trash missing the can
like a small paycheck
like mail not delivered
like too much home work
like candy stolen
like a broken crayon
like ice cream on the ground
like missing car keys
like a flat tire
like a missing coat button
like over due books
like too hard tests

Like a rock hitting a hornet’s nest
Like Thor slamming his hammer
Like a gym teacher calling you obese
Like a football across the field out of frustration
Like someone stepping on your glasses and breaking them
Like eating the last bite of your sandwich

Like a person with writer’s block
Like a person stuck in traffic
Like a crusty piece of paint trapped below a pastel
Like a student in Spanish class
Like an alien trapped on Earth for 7 years
Like a person trying to learn Spanish in 8th Grade
Like a turtle on its back
Like a student in gym class
Like a hundred children being rounded up after
playtime.

Frustration is
Like a coconut inside a bank vault
Like fingers screeching on a chalk board forever
Like losing your left sock
Like your ice cream falling on the ground
Like trying to find where the tape starts on the tape roll.