I see pink tulips growing out of a Rasta’s nose the day
the girl with a mind like fireworks
on speed
explodes.

And the man on Pluto,
with his acme acne, sitting in his white neon glass chair,
thinking. now I have her
forever.

and then this teacher
slugs
slowly
forward
nononononononononono, it drawls like a CD stuck and you just want to scream,
turn it off as it whines words which wield fresh blood that’s old,
think of sense make some sense here’re the rules you know the rules you fool!
I’ll hammer them in till I like you till I get you
till I can turn around and say ah-ha

Oh no! but there appears to be a big fat smile on my face
what do I do, I do, dare to, to do?
as teacher carries on its string-less puppet act, its body a mockery of fluidity
I turn and watch the oak in the garden, bowing to drink from the lake,
so I let the Cheshire cat back.



Extra-Lines/Detention:

There was a young teacher
and yes I did beseech her
to extend me some humility
in all this frightful humidity
but perhaps she’s a lion
and I’ve plonked her in the ice box,
and for that I say me pardons
-but then again that could be me jargon(s)