The Smallest Pond
Hey there, high school teacher,
your talent to rebuff
but when you try imagining
your focus coarse and rough
Your feelings mostly borrowed,
your words ill-gotten gains
your hours spent in false critique
of someone else’s pain
You’re outclassed high-school teacher,
your envy on display
your pedantry a mocking tone
and pretense on parade
(To Wayne Miller: April, 1967)
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