Faculty Meeting

The wino took to a coma like I do when a faculty meeting begins.

The solution was therefore hydrochloric acid with a heavy chance of staining.

I daydreamed (when the fucking phones weren’t going off)

of the color gray walking the plank into a neon pink sea.

I heard a gunshot!

A blunderbuss took out the coaches table.

No intellectual loss for sure.

Now the football coach’s wife wouldn’t have

to slip off her top in my classroom

before the bell rang.

We get to go steady

and fuck before church.

Is this a nursing home?

If it is, then it’s child’s play.

I composed 17 synonyms for the word loathing

and wanted to roll myself like boulders of dice into the ocean.