by Thomas Carroll, Class of 2027

My helmet, the most important thing in my bag

My gloves, equivalent to a nuclear bomb in stench 
That’s why I tell people to clench 
                                                      their nose 
It could take down an entire civilization
Or is that just my imagination?

My skates, my wheels 
Everyone tries not to squeal 
When they see me flying on my wheels 

My stick, something way too expensive 
That’s pretty inoffensive, 
                                                    right?

And my shoulder pads, growing smaller by the days 

My knee pads, my saviors 
If I didn’t have those, I wouldn’t have legs 
that’s why I beg not to have chicken legs

My jersey, a velvet red with a tint of blue
Is it really true, mama?
Are you making beef stew?
Ewww.

My elbow pads, they’re no fad