The March issue of POETRY lies open on my desk
As I wait for Mr. Durden’s
2nd period Pre-Calculus Algebra students
Who will rush through the door when the bell rings.
I flip randomly through the pages
Knowing full well I’ll have to read
A pile of debris passed off as poetry
Before I find (with just a little bit of luck)
A couple of gifts tucked between the covers,
Perhaps satisfying enough to prevent
The recently pondered cancellation of my subscription.
I twirl my freshly dyed brown curls
With the fingers of my right hand
As I hold the edge of a page with my left thumb.
A thought comes to me upon reading a poem called
“Landscape With Horse Named Popcorn” :
"I could have saved myself the trouble
Of applying hair color last week,
Could have just pulled all my gray hairs out today
One by one as I turn these pages."
Instead, I take out red and blue dry-erase markers
And scrupulously scribble colorful comments
In the margins of this literary rag.