Location: Starbucks, Hengshan Lu
Time: 6:37 pm
It’s finals week. It’s die week. It’s make you wanna cry week.
Today everything, including the kitchen sink, was due to end the term. Luckily, our professors heard our moans from across the Pacific (and the river) and gave us an extension till next Wednesday. Considering I’m collecting my 200 survey responses tomorrow, this is especially good tidings.
These assignments haven’t left a lot of leisure time for the random musing, so instead I will leave you with a very cheesy, not at all concerned with structure or rhythm, poem. I wrote it for my practicum class in which we were required to represent our year of teaching in artistic form.
I once met a boy named Gorilla
He claimed to have come from Korilla.
He would jump when I said hop
And run when I said stop.
He wore dresses and skirts
And bears on his shirts.
His favorite animal was the lion
And you couldn’t catch him cryin’
Unless I made him stand in the corner.
I once met a girl named Sandy
By next Tuesday she called herself Candy.
She told me D was for bat
And skinny meant fat.
She liked to run from the monkey
Her fingers were perpetually gunky
And she would smear them all over my face.
I once met a boy named Ned
Who told me his green hat was red.
He didn’t have any feet
And of course lemons were sweet.
Every morning was always a Thursday
And he told me could fly far away
If only that had been true.
I once met a girl named Joy
Who thought that my pen was her toy
When it was raining it was sunny
And oh, wasn’t that terribly funny?
She was 7-years-old
Or so I was told
But her birth certificate claimed she was 5.
I once met a woman named Trencher
Who told me teaching would be an adventure.
A world of sniffles and coughs
Class clowns and show offs
Big, sunny smiles
Patience and trials
Wet, sloppy kisses
And I love you wishes
And it turns out she was right.
May 13th, 2011