I hardly give it a thoughtuntil my wife heads out of the housewith a tub of red vines for the drum line info table where herstudents will entice the 9th gradersinto joining indoor percussion. Then, I give it a thought. This is the fourth school yearin a row that I have not reportedback to workContinue reading “#588: On Not Going Back to the Schoolhouse on the First Day of School for the 4th Year In a Row”
Tag Archives: teaching
#548: Why I Am Not A Carpenter
It is not the poem I wanted to write today, but the prompt at NaPoWriMo was irresistible. Why I Am Not A Carpenter –after Frank O’Hara I am not a carpenter, I am a poetand a musician and a teacher. Why? I think I would ratherbe a carpenter, but I am not. Well, for instance,Continue reading “#548: Why I Am Not A Carpenter”
#509: I am hunted by the notebook… (turn haunted into hunted)
I am hunted by the notebookI lost after sitting at my mother’s deathbed nearly seven years ago now; while I watched and I waited, I wroteabout the experience of being with her while she was dying. She wasnot aware I was even there. For somereason, days or weeks later, that bookwhere I had written allContinue reading “#509: I am hunted by the notebook… (turn haunted into hunted)”
#460: There was in that crazy business . . .
Here’s the third sonnet in a trilogy, the result of a sudden sonnetplosion about my 32 years as a high school English teacher, 32 years in the same school. The second sonnet in this series pretended to be about things I’d miss about the profession, but turned out to be kind of the opposite thing.Continue reading “#460: There was in that crazy business . . .”
#459: However, there are things I truly miss . . .
Here’s the second poem in today’s sonnet trilogy. (II) However, there are things I truly miss.Not the rat race of it, the perpetualFrantic pace, the bureaucratic bullshit,Pendulum swing of best schoolhouse practice; Not the bells of it, slaving to schedules, clocks,And calendars, the battle between plansAnd grades, always decisions about whatTo neglect out of pure necessity; NotContinue reading “#459: However, there are things I truly miss . . .”
Who’s Counting? One Last One More
One for the road. Last tango. One tin soldier. Last one out. One trick pony. This final one is especially fun because the word “one” can be an adjective to describe how many tricks the pony can do. This pony can only do one trick. Or, the word “trick” can be an adjective to describeContinue reading “Who’s Counting? One Last One More”
Who’s Counting? Two
Courtesy of The Fact Site, the number 2 is the first prime number, and it’s either the third or fourth number in the Fibonacci sequence–and that’s significant because math is beautiful and everywhere. Courtesy of Three Dog Night, “2 can be as bad as 1; it’s the loneliest number since the number 1,” followed byContinue reading “Who’s Counting? Two”
Who’s Counting? Four
Four Cardinal directions. Four gospels. Four horsemen. Four Beatles. Four Monkees. Four seasons. Four beats in a bar of 4/4. Four more days in the school year. Three days with students and a single work day for teachers, culminating awkwardly on a Tuesday. Four days until I count myself officially a “retiree.” First up onContinue reading “Who’s Counting? Four”
Who’s Counting? Five
The side effects from my second booster lingered all the way through the day yesterday, so that by the time I went to bed, I felt worse than I had all day. After another bout with some chills and uncontrollable shaking, another somewhat feverish night’s sleep, I wake up feeling almost normal on this fifthContinue reading “Who’s Counting? Five”
#429: My Friend the Media Specialist (a poem on April 22, 2022)
My friend the media specialist(we used to call them librarians)gifted me this morning a prompt for a poem. My friend the media specialistsays the word “precarity” might make a good subject. “Precarity,” I say. “Is that likethe feeling or state of precariousness?” My friend the media specialistsays, “Yes, precarious, uncertain,tentative, vulnerable, transitory, dependent on chance.”Continue reading “#429: My Friend the Media Specialist (a poem on April 22, 2022)”
michael jarmer 