PENNED ON AUGUST 14, 2014!
I was inattentive in Science class one day
When the teacher at random looked my way
I didn't look up, I wouldn't dare
There's no escaping that intense glare.
Asked me to explain to the class
Newton's Law of Gravity and mass
My mind was a blank, heartbeats louder
For an answer I started to flounder.
I stood before the class trembling with fear
"Gravity" I said...and then oh dear!!!
I fell off the stage on to the floor
How the class with laughter did roar.
The children tittered in great amusement
They didn't know my sad predicament
The teacher said, "You've demonstrated gravity"
"Although you did it with much levity".
At length I returned to my seat
With many applause did they greet
Now I look back upon this and ponder
I decide to listen and not let my mind wander.
Submitted to the "Gone Fishin" contest
Trollin’ the islands at Texoma,
It was April, 1964.
New rod and reel in hand,
I’d NEVER been fishing before.
A Garcia 2510T casting rod.
The reel, a Mitchell 301,
Plus hand-selected worms and lures…
I was ready to have some fun.
My teacher, a master fisherman,
Had fished all over the earth...
From trout in Austrian mountain streams
To sea bass just west of Perth.
He showed me all the basics,
Including how to tie a lure.
“No snaps. They’re no good.
Tie’em on…just to be sure.”
He made me practice casting.
“Take aim with your rod’s tip
Take her back - ten, eleven, twelve, one;
Smoothly return to ten… with just a little flip.”
While I practiced the casting motion,
He said, “Large Mouths will be jumpin’ bugs.
Water’s bubblin’ with Sand Bass spawnin’.
You’ll know the difference if one gives you a tug.”
As we drifted around the islands,
He said, “I think you’re ready.”
So, I picked a lure, a pretty Heddon;
And tied her on. My hands were steady.
Yellow with black dots and a weed guard.
A streamer tail and double treble hooks.
Who knew if she would do the job,
But I liked the way she looked.
As I tied her on, I looked around
For a likely place for my first cast.
Magazine pictures always showed weeds
In the background of a striking Bass.
So, I picked a reed bed in the shallows;
Threw my first cast, watched her fly.
What happened next was the stuff of dreams.
We couldn’t believe our eyes.
About eighteen inches before she lit,
A monstrous Large Mouth erupted from the water.
My teacher screamed, “Holy Mary, Mother of God!
Kiss O’Reilly’s Ugly Daughter!”
When the Bass broke water, it scared me.
My whole body jerked and shook.
So sudden, so silent, it seemed like slow motion.
Until I heard him screaming, “Set the hook! Set the hook!”
When the big Bass scared me,
I must have set the hook.
The tussle was on, long and hard.
This fish didn’t want to be cooked.
My lack of skills prevailed, however,
As I finally reeled him in;
I grabbed him by the lower lip,
Like I’d seen Don Wallace do, time and time again.
“Oh, my God”, he murmured as he weighed the Bass;
“Jeez. Over thirteen pounds....Thirteen pounds, two.”
He took out his Polaroid and laughed,
“I’ll take a picture of this fish... holdin' you.”
He snapped the picture of me holding the Bass;
On the back wrote the date, the length and weight.
As he turned to put the camera away……
Get ready. This is the part that’s great.
I’d watched Don Wallace ‘catch and release’.
He always did that on his show.
“This fish put up a good fight.” he’d say;
“Now it’s time to let him go.”
Yes, as my teacher put away the camera,
I held the big Bass by the lower lip and tail
And ‘swished’ him in the water,
Making sure his gills would not fail.
My teacher turned and saw what I was doing
Just as I let the big Bass go.
This, too, was like slow motion
As I heard him screaming, “NOOOOOOO!”
“Why would you do that, Lad?
Do ya know nothin’ at all?
A fish like that... on your very first cast?
Well...Lad, that fish goes on the wall.”
“Well…he’ll be here next year.” I said with a smile,
“And even bigger, I’ll bet.”
He said, ”You’ll make a fisherman, Lad.
It’s not for the fish that we fish…
but for the great stories we get.”
I still have that lure…and the rod and reel.
Still in their bags and boxes, just like new.
I thought about selling them on eBay,
But 50 years later, they have sentimental value.
You see…I’ve been invited to go fishin’ several times
By golfin’ buddies and other friends;
But for some reason…I really don’t know why…
I’ve never gone fishin’ again.
They say, “Truth is stranger than fiction.”
And I believe that is a fact.
I hope you enjoyed this bit of truth and,
In the meantime…..”Ya’ll come back!”
White board…names written hori-
To go pee…right when class starts –
THAT’S just wrong…
Of students who have bladder
Problems – WOW!
Not using lunchtime to do
No one knows
When to do their duties – SER-
I just can't stand poetry!
It badly boggles my brain!
I'm supposed to learn to rhyme!
But uck! You think I'm not sane?
I just can't stand poetry!
With its assonance and stuff!
"These three fleas fly in the breeze,"
I have really had enough!
I just can't stand poetry!
With metaphors I am through!
I'm becoming quite outraged!
A beast I'm turning into!
I just can't stand poetry!
Using similes? The worst!
I think we both can agree,
it's like being in jail! But worse!
I just can't stand poetry!
I think my head will explode!
BOOM! Oww... that wasn't so fun!
I just can't stand poetry!
But I HAVE TO preach it... Grr!
I wish I had not applied
To be an English teacher!
There once was a teacher from Crete
Whose foot size was very petite.
But her students did plot
And to high school they brought,
Some shoes for oversize feet.
Some ooglay dweeb-o-rama after school
went and caught me mashing with my boy toy
(a stella stud, I kid you not -mad cool!)
Geek said, “He’s half your age!” I said, “No DOY!”
Before that tard could gag me out the door,
I told him, “Hey, step off and bag your face.”
Then he spazzed out and said I was a whore.
For real?? I’d barely got to second base!
Suck! Geek finally booked it; then my stud
put on some jams and everything was SCWHEET!
We vegged out on the couch and shared a bud,
then later played New Wave, grooved to the beat.
My dude is wicked, and the zeek was right:
I’m sure not young, but OH, how young the night!
** I have composed a list of definitions for all the
80's slang words and phrases. Just click on "About this Poem"
Written by Andrea Dietrich
For craig cornish's "Talk That Way" Poetry Contest
(My decade of course is the 80's)
Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.
Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.
Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.
Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.
My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.
Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.
The student sits in third row last chair
His foolish words of attention are blurted everywhere
He understands not the value of listening
For he seeks laughs and howls for the teacher’s off>< pissing
Until finally the day of teacher student conflict
The teacher enquires of the student’s gimmicks
Young man confronting the joker for all to hear
Your gall for the learned compliance suitable for classroom learning
Indicates your true ability of one of extremely asinine qualities
I must admit as all the students are listening here
You are the greatest highly intelligent gluteus Maximus I ever did hear
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?
Teacher, teacher, she’s touching me
And I haven’t liked her since we were three.
Help, teacher! He says if I don’t stop
He’ll give me a karate chop.
Oh boy, teacher, I have a stomach ache.
How long’s this lesson gonna take?
Teacher, teacher, my head feels hot.
But, I don’t wanna get a shot!
Teacher, teacher, I hafta go.
If you don’t let me, I think I’ll blow.
Gosh, my water bottle got me wet!
Hey, teacher, is it lunchtime yet?
Teacher, teacher I’m all muddy
And scraped my knee and now it’s bloody.
Teacher! Ow, teacher my tooth is jiggly.
What? I can’t sit still. My feet are wiggly.
Oh, no! Teacher, my pencil broke again.
Why are you always countin’ to ten?
Sniff, sniff, teacher! I’m feeling sick.
I better go to the nurse real quick.
Where you goin’ teacher? Why you sittin’ down?
Did you just say you’re leavin’ town?
What’s the matter, teacher? You don’t look so good.
Ain’t we behavin’ the way we should?
Don’t worry teacher. Tomorrow you’ll be great!
We’ll be back in the morning at half-past eight!
By Susan Burd © 2011
Today the teacher farted,
It was an awful smell.
It was just like a rotting egg,
Straight from the depths of Hell!
She tried to keep it secret,
By sitting in a group.
But it was really obvious,
When she said, "Who did that poop?"
She screwed her bright, red face up,
And blamed it all on Claire.
But later when I needed help,
The stench was round her chair!
She avoided my eye contact,
And ticked my work in green.
But she knew that her body smells,
Were foul and quite obscene.
I asked her what that smell was,
She said she'd not a clue.
I hope to God that eggy smell,
Was fart and not a poo!
Today the teacher farted,
My word, what had she ate?
I'll always remember what she did,
And now I'm thirty eight!
Family Friend Poems
One Monday morning, shortly before noon
I was sitting on the porch beside my teacher’s office
as still as a seagull on a wooden dock
then suddenly, as I listened
I heard the sounds of my teacher’s heels
“click, clack, click, clack!”
echoing against the pavement
as loud as shimmering maracas
It was the sight of my teacher
strutting out on the horizon
getting her morning coffee
as I listened to her dialogue
with her colleague mentioning
something about her foot
which made me giggle like
a circus clown, because of
her voice tone on the word “foot”
She then twisted her head
back toward my direction
saying: “Mia were you laughing at me!,
were you laughing at me, Mia!”
I sheepishly replied: “no ma’am, please don’t let your spirit
haunt me in my sleep tonight!”
If you sit tight, and promise not to spite
I will tell you a story, when I was not in my glory
grade one, a new chapter
who knew my teacher would be a captor?
that’s right! I said it!
a washroom run, she did not permit
there I stood
as still as I could
but I couldn’t help wiggle, then jiggle, and out popped a nervous giggle
first I got a casual stare
not two seconds later, a frightening glare
Oh no! I thought
a quick exit I sought
I could feel the rush coming
my small feet started drumming
how could she be so cruel?
this has got to be against some rule!
and there it went
the warm stream I could not prevent
I could tell she was mad
but I had to go SO bad!
she pointed the way out
boy! Did she shout!
“go to the loo! You twitsy-poo”!
Oh. So you thought that was it?
why don’t you take another short sit
to the principals office I walked down
sporting a most shameful frown
she also looked unimpressed
thank goodness, I was wearing a dress
my underwear was wet but my clothes remained dry
if I had to wear lost and found clothes again, I surely would cry
I pictured Mrs. Marriotti as a belly dancer
while she called mom for dry underwear, but there was no answer
I was vexed, with what happened next
you’ll never believe me
the travesty that was caused by my pee
not only was I humiliated, and my new teacher I did annoy
but the underwear I had to wear for the day was made for a BOY!
January 30, 2012
CONTEST - Dr. Seuss is on the loose (G. Rix)
A fifth grade class was having a celebration.
It was a get together for their graduation.
Each student was assigned to do something.
So the teacher was telling everyone what to bring.
One girl was told to bring in a cake for everyone.
Another was told to bring in games to have fun.
The last student was asked to bring the party supplies.
He was a transfer Asian kid, and he was very wise.
The night finally came and was here.
But the Asian boy never seemed to appear.
They waited around but he never came.
The teacher thought she was to blame.
As the party came to close, the teacher started to clean.
She was hoping that nothing she said to him came off mean.
She heard something in closet, it sounded pretty big in size.
When she opened it, out jumped the Asian kid yelling “Supplies!!!”
**I hope no one takes this as racist**
The confusing world of poetry
Clerihews, and couplets
Acrostics, and Haikus
Me head is spinning round and round
Oh Lord I’m so confused
I’d like to read about the stuff
But I really ain’t got time
I’m too busy trying to write
In rhythm and in rhyme
I never was so very clever
I flunked in all at school
I guess me dad, he got it right
He called me village fool
He tried to make me turn out clever
But he didn’t have a chance
Cause I’m a dreamer through and through
You can see that at first glance.
So I don’t know about complex things
I’m just a simple man
But me, I’ve wrote eight thousand songs
And I’ve done it cause I can
The words roll out like a waterfall
And they come just like they are
And I talk about love, and I talk about life
And the flowers and the stars.
25 July 2013 @ 0925hrs.
Clock ticking like crazy while my teacher is explaining
Scribbling on my paper during the time that is remaining.
Watching the clock religiously as if time would speed up
the teacher takes a sip from his big blue coffee cup.
Due to his monotony I have no idea what hes speaking about.
as he writes on the white board I try to tune him out.
Interrupted while thinking about what lunch is today
my teacher asks about the topic and if I have anything to say.
He stares at me rudely as a smirk spreads on his face
I know hes secretly excited that he gets to put me in my place.
I stutter as I try to remember what exactly he was asking
I wouldn't be in this dilemma if I was good at multitasking.
Press my lips together and hope the bell will ring
but I feel as helpless as a baby bird with a broken wing.
Maybe my facial expression will make the teacher think I'm pondering
even though he knows this whole time my mind has been wandering.
Teacher bows his head in complete and utter frustration
I knot my eyebrows together in false concentration.
The teacher clears his throat but its not heard very well
because at this moment I have been saved by the bell!
Our teacher rides on her broom
she levitates on it in our classroom
she will snap and then deride
wish she'll take her pride for a ride!
Our teacher rode off on her broom
and there was joy in the classroom!
Our teacher came back from her ride
and all the students stirred inside,
"How do we rid her?"
"We must decide!"
"There are students in other classrooms
that also ride as you on brooms"
"They need a guide!"
"They want your brew!"
"They can ride along with you!"
"They can be your new crew!"
"Fly to them now, that's what you should do!"
" We won't miss you, we won't be blue ! "
"Fly to them now, that's what you should do!"
Copyright McCuen 2009
Inside the classroom full of students
The teacher teaches about patience
But there were some lazy group
Noisy and talking about the latest scoop
The teacher’s patience’s exploded
Beauty on her face was faded
The student’s attention are focused
To the person in front of the board
Silence filled in the air
Listening to their beloved teacher
Word by word they’ve learned
But one student fart loudly at the end
Bursting with laughter's inside the room
It’s like time bomb that really boom
The teacher who is very angry
Comes back with her natural beauty
Because of the sound she hears
You can see her eyes with tears
It’s not sadness but pure happiness
And the class were dismiss…….
For PD's Contest
8th Place Winner
I have taught many subjects to many people in my career.
Whether I was teaching first year engineers to write an essay,
or bored sixth-graders the difference between composite and prime,
I never once doubted my abilities as a teacher.
I was passionate, caring, easy to understand, and always got my point across.
Or so I thought—
I learned otherwise one quiet afternoon in a village in Morocco.
I silently watched as my husband’s sister, to whom I had been teaching English,
repeatedly chanted “good night” to my dog, while waiting expectantly for her to “sit”.
My dog cocked her head to the side, in that way that only dogs can, with a sly grin on her face,
and if she could speak, I’m sure she would make a quip about not being sleepy.
I continued to watch without a word, I was speechless really,
and hoped for the sake of my career that my dog would get tired and sit.
“White pumpkins are an aberration,” from the pulpit cried the preacher,
As his eyes scanned the congregation before landing on the teacher.
“Pumpkins should always be orange just the way that God intended,
To have them any other way is proof Satan’s powers have been extended.”
The teacher that was new to town started squirming in the pew,
For he was growing white pumpkins in his patch but only just a few.
He had in mind to try something that no one else would ever try,
He wanted to know if it was possible to make a pure white pumpkin pie.
But now his pie experiment has been condemned as being full of sin,
And to continue on with his curiosity would only invite the devil in.
Yet the thoughts of possibilities had taken root inside his head,
And he wasn’t going to give it up no matter what the preacher said.
So he snuck out to the patch that night with orange paint and a brush,
And to each white pumpkin on the ground he gave an orange-ish blush.
And when the time had come to harvest the ivory pumpkin crop,
The teacher tried to resist but he found he couldn’t stop.
He sliced and diced and mashed and baked until the pie was made,
And then with a fork held in his hand he bowed his head and prayed.
“Dear Lord please deliver me from this dish that I’m about to eat,
For if it has been Satan’s will this pie will lead to my defeat.”
But no sign was given to him and there was only silent night,
So he shrugged his shoulders and raised his fork and then he took a bite.
They found him the next morning and they knew what made him die,
He couldn’t survive the ecstasy of eating forbidden white pumpkin pie.
“Let this stand as the teacher’s final lesson to the students that he taught,”
The preacher cried “If you pick forbidden fruit it’s you who will get caught.”
But the kids knew that the preacher’s words were somewhat out of place,
Because they’d seen the teacher buried with a big smile on his face.
A young girl stood at the school hall wall,
Some paper in her hand,
She shuffled her shoes while eyeing the views,
And the news on a notice board.
This space looks so impersonal, the wall so pale and long,
While shoe heels clicked (click-clack, clickety-click),
“Oh! No” was her thought,
So she turned to walk to the class she had just come from,
She bumped a teacher passing by,
Forms and rulers to the floor did fly!
She knelt to help retrieve the mess
Showing stick-thin legs under her worn check dress,
The lady teacher had a smile “and this one’s yours
You’re new of course!”
She nodded once or twice,
“It’s really good, I think you (should) post
This on the spot at the side”
And so they did, the teacher and kid
That rumpled poem post.
“My name is Miss Jane, I hope we meet again
You’re sue or so I am told”.
Now years have rolled on from that school they have gone.
No longer there to meet.sue did make a housewife proud and love she gave and took
(still) in her mind the prose she’d find, and times awhile to write.
Throughout the years – cares – smiles and fears,
She saved them in a sheaf, past daisy wheel
And golf ball type and word processor advent!
Until a day in December her Christmas gift was sent,
The slim flat box was waiting in season’s wrapping bright
She saw it as she opened the door
And on came the side wall light.
She opened it with nervousness bordering on fright
And held the new computer, she thought
‘I’ll never get it right!’
She put it by, a week went past
And then a friend called in,
She showed it her, “Oh! Don’t despair”
Alice said and grinned.
“Sit down here, you’ll see my dear” the hour flew right by.
Twice more in a week, her Alice did teach
Then said “it’s time for you on your own to try
Come on now, get a grip!”
sue took the computer and opened her paper sheaf
“Oh dear”, said sue as she bumped the desk
Sending some to the floor in a mess
As she bent to pick them up, a yellowed one caught her eye,
It was rumpled at the edges and poor sue just started to cry
Oh dear, oh dear said Alice should we put it away?
No said sue in a tremble, I know what Miss Jane would say
I think that I will post it..! on this telekinetic screen
And yet I still do miss, that old notice board it seems,
It only feels like a morning ago
Instead of those many long years
And so with thin worn fingers,
yet Moving still quick for her age
She posted that poem forever,
Oh! Let’s hope she has passed that nervous stage!
© Joe Maverick 11-10-2010
It's a real story that happened in one school
when a teacher appeared to be a complete fool.
Once when a teacher of math was sick
a teacher of physical education came, named Nick.
He wanted to show how intelligent he is
so he said: Solve my problem please!
- The car moves at a high speed.
To go to Spain a plane we need.
How old am I if the plane now is high in the sky?
- If to take all these tasks and mix
we’ll get the result: You are twenty six.
- Right you are Johnny!
Your arms are scrawny but brain is brawny.
How did you solve this problem so quick?
For me it’s easier to break a brick.
- Well, our neighbor being so sleazy is thirteen,
and my mum says that he is a semi cretin.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
For Francine Roberts contest "Humor Me"
If you ask me, who are my favorite
Teachers at school –well, I’d say there are six;
All of them are good friends too, you know –they’re
Like a box of assorted chocolates!
Miss Latifa is Black American,
She’s the coolest expat teacher at school –
She’s like a basketball –fun to play with
But if it hits your head it might hurt –that’s
When she yells at you –if you break her rules.
Miss Sultana is from Oman. She is
Our friendly teacher in Geography –
Her smiles are as innocent as babies’
And when she speaks she does so like sweet flight
Attendants discussing airplane safety.
Miss Rasha is from Morocco, our tall
And pretty teacher who teaches us French
She may look like a Barbie doll but her
Class is like a movie that brings suspense
For the zeros we get are too intense…
Miss Heba is from Jordan. She teaches
Us Math in a very delightful way –
Although Math is a subject that I hate,
I enjoy all the games she’d let us play –
She’s like a cool breeze in a scorching day.
Teacher Mashaa’el, a Saudi local,
Teaches us Islam in the subject “Deen”.
She teaches as fast as a cheetah runs,
Yet her lessons are well-taught and clear –And
Speaks like she has a mike so all can hear!
Teacher ‘Aisha is Saudi-Syrian and
Is the most beautiful teacher at school!
In many ways she’s like a lioness
In terms of character and when she rules –
She hates fakes and students who act like fools.
They work together as a team of friends
Whose friendship is as tight as clips and glue
They’re loyal to Allah first and foremost
And faithfully obey all the school’s rules
They’re excellent leaders though they are few!
Note: This is a made-up poem, not based on any character in real life :)
I’ve had enough of teachers
They’re as boring as can be
Standing in the playground
Drinking endless cups of tea
I’ve had enough of teachers
Telling me what to do
I’d like to stick them to their chairs
with really powerful glue.
There once was a teacher from Trenton
who tried, but he couldn't keep his belt on,
His pants they would fall
on his knees he would crawl,
And the children, they all paid attention.
We, the Students
The classroom may seem to you,
As a place very serious,
But there are monkeys,
The ones most mischievous.
We, the students, are there in disguise,
We may appear very serene and wise,
But to this coin, there is another side,
Which all neglect; try to avoid.
Angels in white dress,
Above the head a golden ring,
From inside, with horns and tails,
We're a devil- like thing.
Heads are stable, faces with smile,
Legs are busy kicking all the while.
Behind the book, the head one hides,
And is busy talking with the one besides.
The teacher turns to the board to write,
The students start their chalk fight,
When, about the scientific progress is told,
Various paper planes, in our hand, we hold.
When is taught the history of mankind,
The delicious food is dreamed of by our mind,
Busy is the pencil and the pen,
Renovating faces of great men.
When, the knowledge, the teacher feed,
Jokes, beneath our desk, we read,
Very skillfully all this is done,
Nothing is noticed by anyone!
- Let’s start from the very beginning!
- Ok, I know, it’s a very good place to start.
- If you want to know how to read
you have to learn the alphabet.
As far as we are not in a race
you can face 26 letters in one phrase.
“The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog”.
Now a dialogue.
You’ll see how new words appear,
I hope everything will be clear.
For example: to admire–admiration,
to inspire–inspiration. Now you, please!
And be at your ease!
- To desire–desiration.
- Oops! My voice whoops!
When you study English
you have to distinguish:
one goose but many geese.
-What about a moose?
Are they meese?
- A lone mouse can transform into…
a whole set of mice,
but it’s impossible for a single house
to become a whole block of hice.
-Ok, a house–houses.
Why not a mouse–mouses?
-A tooth but teeth, a foot but feet.
If I speak of a foot
and you show me your feet.
-And if I give you a boot
would a pair be called beet?
Can I say a root
and in plural form reet?
-Let’s make this question complete!
There are a lot of exceptions
in the language of British nations.
Anyway, the rules are the tools
for learning the language
and together with the exceptions
it's something like a sandwich.
Let’s go on!- said my teacher with a yawn.
A lot of time has already gone,
I am not going to stay here until the dawn.
Let’s take an easy word “ball”!
- Yes, I like to play football.
- Good! Now open the ball!
- What do you mean by that?
I am not a rat so that to cut the ball.
It’s not funny at all.
- You are kidding!
- Oh, no! I am not a kid!
I would like to know where the meaning of that “ball” lead.
- Ok, in that phrase “ball” has the meaning of a party,
but… a bit more arty.
- There are a lot of other English words I can’t understand.
Why do they call all men gentlemen?
Are they all gentle?
This word looks so fundamental.
If a man is rude can I say a rudeman?
I wouldn’t like to look like a clown
That’s why I ask you again:
Will the difference remain
if I say: shut up or shut down?
I would also like to know:
If we say a teacher taught
why can’t we say: a preacher praught?
If people from Poland are called “Poles”
Why aren’t people from Holland called “Holes”
- Ok, I think our time has gone
and the whole picture of English was not yet drawn.
See you later!
And I hope our next lesson will be greater.
A Preacher and a Teacher
Dr. James E. Martin
The preacher preached with all his might
Sunday morning and Sunday night.
The teacher taught day after day
In her unique and confident, scholarly way.
If the preacher preached
Has the teacher teached?
Or if the teacher taught
Did the preacher praught?
Interesting thought in all of this,
Or have I something amazingly missed?
I guess the answer may never be found
With all the geniuses hanging around.
One day in class, shortly past noon
The teacher was at the front of the whiteboard
jotting down her arithmetic friends
as her hand was moving
as fast a white lightning strike
Suddenly, her lunchtime appetite
sneaked upon her like a secret agent Jack Stalwart
as she leaned over toward her straw plaited purse
like the Leaning Tower of Pisa
to retrieve a sea grape,
and launched into her mouth
like a space shuttle landing on the planet Mars
a student then took notice of her bizarre action
and interrogated at her: “what dat is you was eatin?”
The teacher then delivered a response to his displeasure
saying: “why y’all so nosy, can’t a woman put something
in her mouth without all gettin’ all up in her business!”
in the tone of a five year old girl, who refused
to share her toys with anyone