Poems by William C. Watterson

SEMINAR

They watch me like a t.v. turned down low
and now I am watching them watch me,
their faces blank as endpapers
in books they will never read.

I am, apparently, a rerun,
just words but no music,
my "teacher knows best" voice a drag
no matter how much I modulate,
a one-man show minus commercial interruptions,
my rating lower than I know.

When the hour ends I unplug myself,
my cord a prehensile tail
that slithers like a whip.

When the screen goes dark
the Keats ode fails
like perfect fauna frozen in the shale.

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