Meatloaf Pharaohs Looking Audacious: Administrators

“The elephants are dancing on the graves of squeeling mice.” Cream, Anyone for Tennis

Mandates make the job nearly impossible.
Contracts don’t help much either.
I’m in this job because I want to help children.
If I change one teacher,
Think of the number of students
I’ve made a difference for.
They say I’m an educational leader, but
I never taught under these conditions.
I never knew what it was like to answer
To the whims of politicians, parents, and even teachers.
Now they all call and I have to listen
Because I’m nothing more than a middleman in this job,
More manager that expert teacher.
Now I feel like I’m too far from the students
To make the kind of difference I once did.

Meatloaf Pharaohs Looking Audacious: Students

“The elephants are dancing on the graves of squeeling mice.” Cream, Anyone for Tennis

I wake up.
I sit in class.
I take notes.
I finish assignments.
I go home,
Do hours of homework, and
Go to sleep.

Then I wake up a do it again.


How does this stuff matter?

Obviously, it doesn’t
Because we learn the same stuff
Year after year.
After year.
After year.
Maybe that’s why I don’t care.
Maybe that’s why I don’t try.

I get it.

My choice.

It’s just school.

Meatloaf Pharoahs Looking Audacious: Teachers

“The elephants are dancing on the graves of squeeling mice.” Cream, Anyone for Tennis

We longed for the day
When graduation would be there,
High school would be over, and
College would set us on our adult ways.
We were told the past four years
Were the perfect preparation for the next four or five.
We never bought that message
Seeing the homework as unnecessary,
Wondering why we couldn’t leave for lunch, and
Moaning about all the dumb stuff we couldn’t understand.

Secretly we vowed to never be like that.

Then we got our jobs,
Falling into the trap of efficiency and control
Set by the changing tides of evaluation and continuous improvement.
We started giving homework,
The same kind of assignments that we dreaded.
We continued reading the books that we did,
As if they are the only ones that have anything important to say.
They were classics ordained by people from another time,
An era we railed against as students.
Then, we became the robots we vowed to never be.

Now we pass the blame onto the kids.

I wonder how I became the brick and mortar I so dislike.
Those with authority tell me to make a change.
In the same breath, they say they can’t make change at their level,
So what am I to do?
I’ve latched onto every initiative they have thrown out there,
Nearly a quarter century of graphic organizers, objectives, and technology.
It’s all just a filter, as the information to be delivered
Rarely ever changes,
At least in principle for the foreseeable future.

Spare Evidence Provided: Turning Down the Heat

“Anytime you bring sexuality into the comics pages, you have to brace for the pushback.” Garry Trudeau

Wants, needs, desires
What are these things really?
Evolutionary, marketing, blasphemous,
I don’t know.

I do know they exist
In the realms of life, denial, and exploitation
Which is a real shame
When oppression and suggestion collude to form confusion and anger.

Beauty exists,
The forms are many.
Subtle demonstration is probably best.
Subtle appreciation too.

Cold showers for all.

Sparse Evidence Provided: Flirting at Wawa

“Anytime you bring sexuality into the comics pages, you have to brace for the pushback.” Garry Trudeau

“Hey, baby, where you been?”
He answered back over the deli counter, “Here, there. You?”
“Just hidin’ back here, baby!”
He said, “There’s no good in that.”
“Well, I can’t give all of me to you, baby.”
He didn’t miss a beat, “Why of course you can.”
“Ah, baby, I’m a lot of trouble.”
He said, “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I don’t know, baby, I can bring it.”
He smiled, “I bet you can.”
“Baby, I’ll see you next time.”
He walked out with a nod and a wink.

Sparse Evidence Provided: Wallbanger, Fly Guy, and an Old Pornographer

“Anytime you bring sexuality into the comics pages, you have to brace for the pushback.” Garry Trudeau

No restraints when it comes to zipper extravagance
Leads us to dudes who have a phallic existence
Without respect for the more subtle aspects of sexuality,
Mainly that of respect and the truest meaning of “NO.”

Take for instance the multitude of cuts
Wasted on the cinematic floor of the creeper
Who made movies with the express intent of profitability and
The secret hope of shagging young starlets.

His couch was there for the using, but
He should have his perverted member
Put in a cast for the way
He pushed and poked with the power of pseudo-authority he held over women.

The script is being re-written, Harvey.

How about comedy and sitcom royalty
Mixing concoctions to keep women from heckling
While a pudding pop ran rough shot
Through an unwilling participant in his idea of intimacy.

He took away any credibility he had as a family man.
He robbed any thought that he could have been a caring gym teacher.
He abused women and had his day in court.
He said nothing becoming the punchline he made of himself.

You should have plenty of sweaters, Bill.

Making deviant behavior cool
Seems to be the way rebels want to gain acceptance.
A long time before the internet
Blue magazines filled the bookstore shelves.

Who knew a pajama-clad old man
Could reign by his standard for which nudity would be displayed,
No matter the cost to the models shot to enhance his magazine’s stories
Or the perception of women bred by the images and cast in a man’s mind or hand.

May Harvey be the last bunny you photograph, Hugh.

Hey, guys, your wallet does not entitle you.
Your job status does not entitle you.
Your deviant little brain does not entitle you.
Just go away, please.

Sparse Evidence Provided: Creams, Oils, and Such

“Anytime you bring sexuality into the comics pages, you have to brace for the pushback.” Garry Trudeau

It’s been said
That with new friends
Come oils, creams, and robes.
Just like the sit-com,
I know that life isn’t for me.

Some might slide and slither
From on romper room to the next, but
The toll on a simple life
With vows to a wife
Are more important than the reckless rendezvous.

Sparse Evidence Proposed: We All Walk Around Like Peacocks

“Anytime you bring sexuality into the comics pages, you have to brace for the pushback.” Garry Trudeau

Daily dilemma drama
Is often self-made when the actors
Play parts that wrap wanton expressions
Of silliness in bogus brown paper bag sexuality.

All around people preen
Spreading feathers for the nothingness of attraction,
An attempt at fulfillment
Under the guise of pleasing others.

What of simple presentations
Without push-ups, nips, tucks, baggy pants, eye shadowing,
Skinny jeans, manscaping, or the next surgical enhancement?
It’s all too much to accommodate for.

How about appreciate self as self?
How about realizing realness?
How about plain proclamations instead of public pretending?
It’s only a little to ask.

Sparse Evidence Proposeed: All Shapes and Sizes

“Anytime you bring sexuality into the comics pages, you have to brace for the pushback.” Garry Trudeau

Long lines for shallow pours
Makes for ample time
To outline a story.

Under an indecisive sky
With sun and clouds taking turns covering the parking lot,
Expressions of sexuality flew.

Waiting for beer after weeks of prohibition
Made thirst at a festival
Like extreme hunger at a beach buffet.

My goal at this gluttonous liquid adventure
Was material for writing,
Characters, plot, humor.

I stood with a man,
A lover of men,
A friend of a rival who happened to be around.

He said to me,
“Look at the chest on that one,”
Which made me look her way and then back to him.

For it was the confusion of the question
Wrapped in the stereotypical mindset of what it means
To be straight or gay.

The dissonance was not as much for our opposite preferences,
But more that he would be so bold to ask it in such a confined social environment.
After all, we were all sort of cuddling in crowded lines for our drinks.

He continued, “I love the beauty of a woman’s body,
But they don’t (and here’s where I edit for the audience)
Like a man does.”

I kind of gulped and offered back, “I’ll take your word on that one.”
We both laughed all the way to the next shot and
Got separated only to run into each other later in the night.

The effects of long days of hydrating
Have negative effects on the behavior
Of normally rational people.

The imbibing in spirits
Loosens the inhibitions
Making for loose talk that is better off private.

The bi-body appreciating friend of the rival
Started telling me stories of their friendship without benefits,
Although samples of pre-intimacy might have been part of their history.

I listened, thinking how bizarre everything sounds after sunning with kegs,
Wrestling with regret for how embarrassing the next day will be, and
Wondering how to process all the information being dropped on my lap.

Ah, what the heck, good and bad aren’t the privy of straight-laced people,
They are the determinant of good and bad people.
What happens in private is private.

Just keep it that way, okay?