Graceful as a swallow
Skimming past the chair
My latest careful handout
Goes floating through the air

Little Louis’ pencil
Is lodged in Sarah’s ear
As one pupil in fifteen
Is trying hard to hear

The others are, alas, alack
In quite a different world
Uncovering the guilty
Who Katie’s bag just hurled

I gaze around and wonder
Through clouds of chalky dust
How, given any normal choice
To teach, I thought, I must

A little laugh escapes me
To be followed by a song
If I’m going down, you little shits
For you it won’t be long

And as a gentle smile descends
Upon my lips to seal
The secrets of the English class
I swear they won’t appeal