No Talking
I taught
high school English for one day,
more than enough to know the job
wasn’t for me; I must’ve told them
to pipe down a gazillion times;
come last bell I was in bad shape,
my throat raw, my voice reduced to
a painful rasp; no wonder we keep
hearing about teachers having sex
with their students; after six periods
of ear-splitting chaos it must be
highly cathartic to plug one up;
even the gabbiest, gossipmongering
cheerleader will find it hard, if not
downright impossible, to talk with
her mouth full.
Horror Sleaze Trash 