My literature class this semester was a brain-buster for no good reason. (I complain of it much on Twitter.) To keep sane, I would jot little poem-y things or other note-ish commentaries in my notebook. Here is the last day of that class written verse-ishly.
//
The timber of their laughter matches
the likely content of their conversation
breathy empty
still it causes all others to stop
and stare,
waiting.
Are the mocking lilting noises, the exuberant gasp-ish pauses,
about them?
I wish I were on
the white side of the
room
and
could participate in
the prof-mocking
note passing.
D#$n.
Frantic
is she
to put together
the 1000-piece puzzle
her syllabus became.
It is the last
day of class.
Highlighter
hockey
played with your
feet.
The student
cannot contain
a small snort of
derisive laughter
and a second.
It has been a
long
semester.
pedagogy
imagistic
elegiac
"expecially"
Let's make a drinking
game
of our prof's
lectures.
