The first day, your face lit up

“I’m 22, and this is my first class!”

Your smile faded when I spoke

“Why does your diploma say ‘Drama?’”

 

And when we spoke too loud that day,

You made us clap our hands to promote

Silence

after tests,

 

We played “Seven Up”

You’re twenty two

It’s not an unimaginable age for a date

Your profile picture on Facebook

 

Is your senior prom date

Well,

If she weren’t so stupid

And didn’t wear fifty shades of purple eyeshadow

 

I might humor her

Until she brought up her favorite literature

What we analyzed in class

The Twilight Series, the Guardians of Gahoole,

 

And occasionally a misunderstood parody

Oh, inadequate funding

Leading to the

Incorrect usage of homonyms

 

Are you really an AP teacher?

Please don’t send me

Into the hallway

When I explain the usage of “you’re” and “your”

 

Please don’t send me

To the office

When I point out that you should use “Their” instead of “They’re”

Please don’t accuse me

 

Of being unorganized

When an assignment turned in three months prior

Is lost, and brought to my attention as so

The day of our report cards

 

And when you asked of my heritage

I spoke,

Only to have nationality brushed off

Into a big, ugly lump

Of Yugoslavia

 

And you still live at home,

Alone,

Mom and dad getting prepped

To meet your high school sweetheart

Sad that he hasn’t yet proposed

Angry that your students dislike you

Scared of their drugs

Condescending of parents

And

Stuck eternally

In our school’s blood