it was in fourth grade that i noticed teachers

had lives outside of the classroom 

it began with misses conarchy

and her dark eyes   her dark   pixie cut   hair 

her demeanor   which was womanly

i took notice of her wedding ring   her car

in the parking lot   her clothes   it came

to light that her husband was a vice-president

of our local bank   together these were details

of someone more than a teacher

after that i saw all my teachers

as complex   i often judged harshly   

often was smitten   often felt weary

of the relentless humanity of my icons

~

marketa reads this and makes a face

not a pretty face

i reread it and make a face

not a pretty face   it sounds as if

it were written

by a 1971 ibm punch card machine   not

by a hot-blooded   god-fearing graduate

of the california college

of arts   with a degree in graphic arts   and

a minor in english   no   it doesn't 

sound like me at all

where is the spice   the hot sauce   the 

chili peppers   the la ti da   the la la la   

the come and get it   if you dare