Teacher's Manual

The teacher kept talking over and over and over
Poor man, he still has a mind
To leave the job, but lacks the incline
To treat the new generation he says
And make them learn
Manners, courtesy, and respect
Five years only at it now
And he holds all bags filled with holes
He is teaching the direlicts
Who has no mind for academics
Good thing I thought before
Thirty years in sum compassing every level
Headed theory of our devolution.
What is it he asked
Wringing the last drop from the flask
It is the mythic I said
We have no replacement for the moral order
Crumbling like a meteorite before our eyes
Gas is making rocks in the factory of the sky
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

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