Where Were You Yesterday?

Equinox has passed
Nights grow longer,
Days shorter,
The air chiller,
Tuesday evening
Late September
Rain falling
In a clime it seldom does
Its scent, pleasantly musty
Seeping through an open window;
‘Twas a sick day
For one beleagured poet
And teacher,
Whose control of words
Is apt, but of children
Not so much.
                                              Stress seeps in soul
                                            Procrastination piles papers
                                            Higher, the stack no less
                                              For so many hours free.

Where were you yesterday, Mr. Writes?
Not here, I will tell them
And smirk in that smug way
That only adults can give to kids
We missed you, a few will venture.
Of course they did.
Because I’m their favorite teacher
For all the wrong reasons.
I let them talk far too much,
Postpone due dates
Because I’m behind,
Hand out candy for prizes
(And sometimes only for doing as they’re told)
Until I’m told that’s not allowed
At a school on a
Nutrition Mission.

I compose a lesson plan
The afternoon before
Sometimes only
The morning of.
I pontificate on
Similes, metaphors
And when the boy who will
Never shut up says,
“I don’t remember what that is”
I say “Your mind is like a
Paper cup…
You can only fill it so many times
Before the bottom breaks.
That is a simile.”

Other students laugh,
Say “That’s why you’re our
Favorite teacher.”
I only pick on the ones
Who can take it.
They get to pick on me back
Certainly I give them reason to.

I’ll get their “Hi”s on papers,
Occasional artwork–
They were bored with my lesson
But drew me a picture instead
Strangely less bitter than sweet.
Even a poke in the cheek
From a girl or two.
The boys will engage me in
Talk of football games,
Anything that delays
Having to “do work”

The waning innocence of 12-year-olds
Like cupping a palmful of dust
On a windy autumn day
Exasperating as they are
Know what?
I missed you too.