The Math Teacher
With light nervous steps, he trod in As one aroused from an upshot of gin And stood abashed, a shadow ill-prepared, His sealed quivering lips unassured Whether it be fractions or tractions Change of subject or m eaningless expressions Pondering where and how to begin Whilst they continued their din Not heeding the unsettled guest Framed in the doorway aghast Clutching a heavy textbook With a finger locked in the nook. Read: Village Boy Impressions - Why God Does not have a Ph.D. A well-pressed shirt that daintily sat And shoes black as night pat Were all they could admire of him. For he could neither add nor multiply Save by that book he held to comply. And he stammered badly enough To send them reeling to the north. He was thrust upon them without a session And they could instruct him with fair revision....