Bad things are going to happen
You will wake up late,
your car won’t start.
Someone will try to make 477 copies
Of an assignment they don’t need
until Wednesday,
Causing the copy machine to stop
every three pages, so you can look
for a jam that doesn’t exist.
Twenty-two students will choose your class
To go down to the auditorium to take their picture retakes.
You will spend hours meticulously pouring over
Every activity, handout, and Powerpoint,
But you will still use the wrong there.
All but one student
Will forget about the homework you assigned.
You CT will be out with the flu,
But she’s got you covered - she called in a sub.
That sub will go get coffee
At Starbucks, and wont return for another 45 minutes.
You’ll create a Powerpoint
But forget to use it until after the class has ended.
You’ll spend hours making thoughtful comments
On each assignment,
Your dog will feast on every fragment.
There is a Nigerian folktale about a turtle.
The turtle, being hunted by a hippopotamus and an elephant,
Was doomed to become dinner.
As he tried so stealthily to sneak away,
He felt a rock lodged between him and his shell.
He retreated to retrieve it.
It took hours to dislodge.
As he returned to meet his match,
He was alone in a sea of like-sized rocks.
So here’s the deal, the skinny, the scoop,
You will forget your lunch and
Be forced to eat the cafeteria’s mush.
You’ll loose your hair, your phone will get stolen,
You’ll be mistaken for a student,
you’ll forget to set your alarm.
Open your eyes, pick up a rock,
And admire the conjunction
Where the smooth edges meet its sharp point.
