Again

i look down at the book, the words taunt my inability to understand them. jumping, twisting, spinning, turning. the teachers getting impatient, "hurry up." one work at a time, slowly, a story. one, two, three, four. letters, they're just letters, sorted to form words. words that form sentences A, B, C, D. why this? every day the same story, the same start, the same end. over and over and over and over. I finish the page, just as I should. I look up at the clock as it begins to turn back. again, again, again, again. I start again.