You're Grading

You’re grading, and I mustn’t interrupt

I understand what you are going through:

Waiting for a new idea to erupt

From that turgid pool, that dark, bitter stew

It is a bit like trying to drink mud

Reading essays inspired by deadlines

But if teaching thrums through your antique blood

You’ve no escape; as writing fast declines

You must take up your inky, tired lance

And battle giant cliches and trite thoughts

With verbal false limbs you must try to dance

To make sentences flow, you’ll explode clots

Full of beauty and pathos is your fight

May these words ease the pain of your long night