Dec 8, 2009

Ties: A Prose Poem

Big Brother approached a stolid teacher:


"Where's your tie?"


"I've noticed you haven't worn yours today!"


He replies, with a grin


"I had a rough night. --"


An interminable set of chores ...


"I don't want to hear it. Wear a tie to work"


Apples and trees; bells ring.


The mosaic of color blends. He scrambles for a rejoinder.


0


So, the stolid teacher sighs
and taught another class of happy, eager student to whom an entirely different set of restrictions had been laid out:


Overstuffed maroon sweatshirts


Lack of earrings for the men


Pleated skirts for the girls


Conservative appliqué


Legs outstretched, one chews a pen to it's raw carcass center.


The bitter avowal of knowledge and lessons; Socratic questions; plaintive pleas for individual NESS


Time bleeds


A former student visits :


An altercation in form :


Wearing a French style hat, bold cerrulean colors, he says, "hi" -- fresh from some college where self-expression is allowed: its own set of burdens.




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