Kids think school is really neat.
It’s all the crayons you can eat
And lots of friends to boss around
‘Til you weigh more than fifty pounds.
After that school isn’t great.
You’re teased for all the crayons you ate
By bigger kids with smaller brains
And many fewer choochoo trains.
If school stuck to its “pre” version
It would enhance student immersion.
Alas, they think we have to learn
And that’s why I will not return.
Filed under Poems
If you could just close your mouths
And let your feet be still
Your mind would find a sense of peace
And overflow with skill.
If you could keep your eyes on me
And your hands to yourself
You’d find your time so much more free
And your talent upper shelf.
If you could focus for a blink
And persevere a while
You’d all be smarter than you think
And make a teacher smile.
And yet as you deny these things
I’m please to end a day
When you can do a two-plus-two
And know that biting’s not ok.
Filed under Poems
Today I taught a first-grade class
And of the 18 kids
Six were joys, six were invisible,
And six blew off their lids.
So one of three will be successful
And one in three will be cute
And one in three do nothing, but loudly
Which is just who the Feds will recruit.
Filed under Poems
The upside of the “6-7” trend
Is that it may show the unheralded end
Of kids saying “420-69”
Which makes me feel better than fine.
Filed under Poems
My parents were trees;
I’m a cone that you step on
To make crackle sounds.
Filed under Poems
Frankenstein reflects
That his monster has nothing
On the kid you made.
Filed under Poems
If we make all words
Inappropriate to say
Kids will talk at birth.
Filed under Poems
Super secret base.
Red alert! It’s Mom and Dad
Taking pillows back…
Filed under Poems
To make a student concert go
There are some things you need to know.
Just like a wedding, what you hear
May cause you to shed a tear.
They’ll play a tune you know by heart,
Beloved favorite, devoid of art
And then a piece that’s written so
The talentless might play a show.
This will go on for several hours
And won’t be cancelled due to showers
To gird your loins and plug your ears;
You’ll have one for the next ten years.
Filed under Poems
At what age can you no longer say
“Do you want to be friends?” to a stranger?
It seems to be somewhere between six and 90
And otherwise they call you “Danger”.
But I think the world would be happier
If we’d ask to be friends way more often.
Sure, they can say “no”, but give it some time
And society will soon start to soften.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 