June 12, 2009

Stopping by the office on a steamy morning

Whose words these are you darned well know.
My house is not on campus, though
I've stumbled in by instinct. Guts
have steered me through the traffic flow.

My teenagers must think me nuts.
I work when they lie on their... beds;
you smile upon their summer ease?
Through morning steam the concrete juts

and swallows cars and spits out keys
and drivers all who scent the breeze
and recognize their own mistake.
It's not relief but just a tease.

I give my workday yoke a shake,
the methyltheobromine take.
They tell us we must be the best.
But if no mug, I'm just a flake.

The summer's lovely, hot and blessed,
but Friday morn finds me all stressed.
No beach for me, not half-undressed;
it's hours to go before I rest.

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Posted in The academic life on June 12, 2009 8:46 AM |