the teachers in the lounge

engage in

idle chit-chat

they speak of babies, and kids, and classrooms

it’s grocery-line talk

they do this every day, and I have been invited.

They spotted me, going to the coffee machine

“Hey, all we know about you, is that you dress a certain way

drink coffee, and drive that little truck.”

I look at them, mutilating their lives with conversation

Am I above them?

No.

But my ideas are, and I have the idea

that this is insane!

The principal is getting his water, from the watering hole

“How’s your day going?” I ask.

“It’s not boring,” he said.

When I was a kid, there were some days

I couldn’t wait

to wake up for

and as an adult, I just try to sleep-in

The years go by, quickly

Soon, I’ll be dead.

I think about, what my life would be like

if I didn’t go to work

“You’re wasting your time!” My parents would say. “Don’t you think you should be making something of this life?”

It’s been a long time since I woke up at sunrise,

and watched the sunset,

from the woods.

“Are you staying busy?” The principal asked me in the hallway.

Doesn’t he know his life is going to be over?

It’s like they can’t wait for that.

10 thoughts on “The teachers in the lounge…

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