not me at all


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   







Poetry by one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 234 times
Written on 2020-04-04 at 01:30

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Bibek The PoetBay support member heart!
These two sections show how "reading and responding" normally work. Also, I know the feeling of going through the old writings: the second section explains that well with wry humor.

I am not making a face! I like this diptych.

I'll never forget seeing Miss Wilhelm in the Liberty Market and thinking, you're not supposed to be here, you're supposed to be in school!