Iskoola Pota

The guru cleared his throat
and watched his subjects:
Some are restless,
and some in trance.
And he made his scratchy voice
a bit louder,
but the noise radiated dominance.
Ballpens
tapped the surface of the desk
of a bored student.
His mouth worked
on a gum he was chewing
covering his mandibles
with a big handkerchief.
She bent down, nodding,
hair dropping,
eyes on paper,
intent in writing.
The sleepy pupil
turned his head to the clock
and raised two of his fingers
for a time out.
And the teacher took his little white device
to write a few questions on the chalkboard
plus some words and instruction.
They complained,
wailed,
asked,
talked
to seatmates.

And one scavenges his bag
for a piece of paper.

They followed.
Silence captured the room
as they answered
the unannounced quiz.

(c) 2003
Vivien Marie Lopez

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