A School Day

First Period

A simple sound humming in the background leaves my colleague at the mercy of his morning let down. Two fans, one an industrial pedestal, the other a cheap Wal-Mart rollback are sending a twisting zephyr that has brought a zen-ish peace to the cramped confines of our humble office.

Rarely in the corse of a school day is it possible to just sit. The noise of the building precludes the serenity we are living right now. No loud high school transitions where the students rush to catch up with friends they have not seen in the eternity that is forty-two minutes. No responsibilities of slinging knowledge to those with lukewarm commitment. Right now just the ease of hanging.

Unfortunately, this calm is preceding the storm as it is only first period. The vibe in this subtropic breeze which is being fortified by moisture from a nearby shower stall has started this day off right.

May the winds continue blowing favorably…

Second Period

HVAC winds spin
An invisible tornado
Putting dust bunnies on the carousel
In the hall between classes

Third Period

Just as might happen
When swimming in a cool pool
I hit a disturbing patch of warmth
While walking to my next class
Masses of teenage zombies
Were squeezing through
A narrow sighted design
Of traffic management
When I passed through
Air that was too hot,
Not pleasant, and
Better left with
Whoever let it go

Fourth Period

Sharing a cool moment with a student
Comparing mobile photos of pit bull pups
Mine a blue nose @ 75#
His a pit-mastiff mix @75+#
And GROWING
Good times,
Great dogs

Fifth Period

“What happens here?”
(Pointing to a diagram of the female genetalia)

“That’s where she squirts,” a student said.

“Huh?” I asked having never had that response before.

“I don’t know,” he said, “I’ve been hearing a lot about that in school. My friends, you know…”

Sixth Period

A moment to sit
Catching up with colleagues
Wondering what the future holds
Or deciphering the 40 Year Old Virgin
When the mindless banter was broken
By the operatic gossip of a late arriving barker
Telling fantasies to upset the groove

Seventh Period

Cups holding the snacks
Keep the germy fingers out
No sloppy picking.

Eighth Period

An angry man, really a kid
Eighteen years alive
Three in emotional entitlement years
Where he thinks the world is his
Where everyone either owes,
Or is against,
Him
He will learn once
He is out of school

Ninth Period

The day is done
The fans are off
The lights too
The doors are locked
Back tomorrow…

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