Poem : The Lesson

That teacher really gets my goat
Down at the Polytech
I’d love to grab him by the throat
And wring his scrawny neck

He thinks that he knows more than I
As he drones on all day
I breathe a hearty, heavy sigh
And know that soon he’ll pay

I wait until he’s leaving class
Then track him to his car
I’ll teach him for his back-talk sass
I bring an iron bar

I have a mask to hide my face
All you can see are eyes
I catch up to him, quicken pace
Now – time to improvise!

He finds his keys, he fumbles them
Near the delicatessen
He claims to teach me Bio Chem
But now I teach the lesson

I raise the bar above my head
And hit the car’s rear buffer
It isn’t that I want him dead
I just want him to suffer

He motions to turn and face me
I prompt him to think better
I scream at him like a banshee
And grab him by the sweater

“Don’t look at me, let’s be discreet,”
I urge him to lie down
His face is nestled in concrete
His undies turning brown

“Please, not the face,” the teacher cries
“I’ll do just what you ask!”
He’s dropped his stationary supplies
But I don’t drop my mask

“You better remark all the grades
Off all those in your class
Cos if you don’t I’ll bring my blades!
I’m gonna cut your ass!”

“Anything!” the teacher wept
His face still on the ground
The concrete that’s never been swept
Mumbling the sound

“You better do it, or you’ll pay!”
I say with dire warning
He changed my B into an A
The following morning.

Originally Posted 22/2/2015

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