Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Homework
Teachers must lead crummy lives,
so that is why they shirk
feelings of humanity
when they assign homework.
Every day another page
or two of history;
memorize state capitols
and multiples of three.
Write an essay, underline,
answer practice questions --
where to stuff this Mickey Mouse,
I had a few suggestions.
My parents, they were in cahoots
with every teach I had.
Red Skelton might be on TV,
but that was too darn bad.
Hit the books, they would command,
and don't throw any fits --
then Gomer Pyle they'd sit and watch.
Those awful hypocrites!
So I would slink up to my room
to read a dry textbook,
draw a pie chart, do some math,
and snarl like Captain Hook.
I'd show 'em, when I ran away,
that homework was a crock,
when I came back with pirate gold
and they went into shock.
Or on a rocket to the moon,
I'd tell 'em with a smirk,
that guts and courage got me there,
not any dumb homework.
Now that I am older
without any pirate gold
or any trips out to the moon
I am the one to scold
and tell the kids to hustle,
get their homework done, unless
they'd rather lose their Xbox,
while I watch NCIS.
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