Sloppy Saturday
No comfort on a weekend
Dribbly Sliibly blippidy blop
Boot bea do do bird
Sing song tweet-a-twitter true
Gotta hit at least 100 words
to qualify
But I’m a teacher
I be busy
Scoot chootin childden Cha
Duwop dubbly do
Flippin Floop
Could’ve studied poetry
Instead I’m on lunch duty
Pushing round wastebaskets
Labor shortage, they say
Ooo woozy wheeee
Skiddely shootin' breeze
Whittling blank verse
submitting
40 times for 40 days
No matter I teach science
Know not the hell of what I'm doing
Deee leadily instubastud reedily
Goony greener tree-la-lee
Slip Sloppin on a Saturday
To fulfill obligation
But
Poo Poo Poetry
doggammic uppentry
Mis mashal you-ology
Should be more prepared
in my free verse but
I got lessons to plan
Remember. I’m a teacher
Phuk, phong, flickety flock
A bird be a bird
I flew over
word limit.
.
7
About the Creator
No Real Balance
Reluctant Writer. Teacher.
Hawking vocal contests for love letters.
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More stories from No Real Balance and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Business of Nature
Dew drops reflected the light of the sun. The inhabitants of Whispering Woods woke up to the golden droplets of water on the leaves of the flora. The oaks particularly enjoyed the light and the maples did, too. Happiness enveloped all who lived there, even the rocks that cried out in the night delighted in the morning.
By Skyler Saundersa day ago in Fiction
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