"A poem for every 5 minutes they are testing"

and they still haven't learned a goddamn thing
and they sit in their desks hoping that by the time
class is over their test will be done and they can go home.
If I were teaching they would be asking if its time to leave
noone gives, a shit about commas anymore.
not even the book when the last rule states,
"Use commas to make a sentence clearer"
Whats the point of learning all the other rules,
if this last rule can cancel them out.

Everyone wants something for nothing
I will not publish yer dead friend
and I will not send you work to other publishers.
I guess all the competition really does die
when we don't keep score at the soccer games.
man, I wanna bang a soccer mom
and send my work to Camber Press
Ill make us all famous whatever way I can
and i'll go in headfirst now and mention
everyone's name and see how that works.
As well as 12,000 copies off to a deadpan
hippie festival? Were the police hippies?
Maybe I should just play bass in a basement
that floods and volcanoes are made
and I can skate in circles around the poles
and smoke some Winstons.

Then the class wants to go on a fieldtrip...
all the way to the student center
pickup pencils with animals on them
from a school that endorses gameboy
and condoms and full size shampoo bottles.
She's the kinda girl I could date
I could hit her and she'd still be happy
with the relationship.
Hit her with a lamp because the spaces between
each paragraph show how many times
I show my authority by pacing back
and forth in front of a room.
Charles Bukowski said it best,
'its not that there's to many writers
but to much bad writing'
because how much sense does it make
when volcanoes are butterflies.
I mean, I get it, and you get it
but do the students get it.
They didn't understand when
they went to my car to look for pencils
and only found a smoke machine
and some drumsticks.
But if only one can walk back with
butterflies in her hair and it ends
up on her purse then really why
do we do it.

Damn, I'm beginning to sound
like the poet laureate of Asbury.
"Theater of the heart" Fuck that.
I hope he chokes on his incense
stick cause he has no gag reflex.