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Under the veil of ignorance
by Charlie Morgani am the protest sign written
in invisible ink; coming out in
the night; under broken lights.
i've never been snared; nabbed, not;
spanning the breakfasts' of all losers;
Napoleons relieving village idiots
as progress is blared from tiny lips;
lips that can't part, so remain closed.
time moves on yet, stays quietly still.
we call it names, bad ones too: school, future;
education, major, dean, teacher. paleontology,
archaeology, other stuff, ooohh! the nerve.
your/me? teachers just talk and talk and talk
and it's so interrreeeeeessssssssZZZzzzzzzzzzz. 10/25/2008 Posted on 10/25/2008
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 10/26/08 at 03:28 AM I've always felt that those teachers that knew their subject very, very well, made the best teachers. I never feel asleep when listening to someone who really knew what he/she was talking about. I think you get that a lot more until you get to the college level but even then at times... |
| Posted by Dani Rose on 10/27/08 at 04:39 AM this reminded me of cummings, in a way. the frank manner, i think? i'm bad at comparisons--suffice to say i love cummings, and loved this. |
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