pixies

The High School was plonked in the middle of the flat plain.
Seven oil refineries belched across the paddocks.
My maths teacher was not a real maths teacher, but
she was good enough for us.
At year 8, Algebra was a part of Africa.
I would work in the library to cover the books, and
secretly sniff the glue.
I wondered if real pixies and fairies played in the
oil refineries.