The cut-up in the back of the classroom,
the fool who refuses to learn --
I ignore each of life's lessons,
Never wait my turn.
Oh, and all my friends will laugh,
there in the back row,
each time I open my mouth to prove
just how little I know.
It's too late now to change my grades
or be teacher's pet;
dismissal bell is ringing and I've
only learned regret.
Stephen Brooke ©2011
A rather bad poem, truthfully. My first thought for this concept was to develop it as a song but I recognized that it would need far more forceful, more visual, imagery for the idea to work. So it's just a so-so bit of rhymed poetry.
* * *
WillFest is coming up again in little over a week. And once again, I'll be missing out on it. I'll look at the bright side of it and think of all the money I'll save staying home.
Speaking of money and home, I'm finally investing in some plumbing hardware for the place. I've been only turning on the water into the house briefly a couple times a day because of my very leaky faucets. I could live this way (and take care of Mom too) indefinitely without it being any real bother at all but if I ever want guests here, I'd best have running water, I suppose...
* * *
Today is the birthday of Dr Seuss. I'll admit that I missed out on his books as a kid -- I never saw one until I was eight or so and by then I was way beyond them and reading all the adult books on our shelves. I truly learned to read from my siblings' tall stacks of comic books. I well remember plowing through the Classics Illustrated version of Red Badge of Courage in the back of the Plymouth station wagon on our way to New Orleans, summer of'57. Was I really going to want to read about green eggs and ham after that?