23 Mar

Somewhere I am enrolled in a class

in Early English Literature

taught by a quaint and proper little old lady

dressed in black lace

But I can’t seem to find the classroom

and I running quite late

I race up the stairs with the black wrought iron railings

and the slick marble steps

distracted by the baubles and the beads

of the plaid short skirts of the young women

lining up for lunch in the shiny new cafeteria

and it seems I’ve lost track

and can return to that great old class


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