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NIGHT
CLASS First things are first.Class begins with time assumed to be constant.
Sitting in the unbearable heat while brain cells melt.
Everything whole changes and goes another way.Intellectual statues sit in the gallery,
beckoning for knowledge of puzzling neverness.
Solid eyes gaze in and out of darkness;
trying to solve more or less problems.Other body parts fall into unconsciousness;
waiting for the break. Answers exist as givens;
locked away in expensive large books.We will break for ten minutes.
Purpose deceived, headache received,
Everything now leans toward thought's control.
Alterations of regurgitated subject
matter are spat down in note form.Test on Tuesday, term-paper on Thursday,
and mandatory homework on Monday suggests
that the marks on the board are important.Whispers in the right corner break through
the monotonous whims of could you please
repeat that, on the contrary, and Huh???
The voice of wisdom lingers on.The dream state is broken when the sound
of books closing surrounds the entire room.
A final analysis comes out with the eruption:In closing for the night.
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