Nineteen pairs of eyes train
themselves on the front of the room,
perhaps on me, perhaps on an interesting
spot on the whiteboard. We are doing
close reading, and already I see some
slumped slightly in their chairs or leaning
toward the end of the hour. They want to know
what it is exactly they should know to pass
this course, what it is exactly I am
supposed to want from them. These days
the world is always using words like
faster, more efficient, and optimize—
as if the mind were a flat rate box
stuffed with content on an assembly
line, then taped and pushed down
a chute. I long for those times we
lingered over the pages of a favorite
book read more than once, for mornings
unspooling toward afternoon and evening
along with sentences so brilliant, I
couldn't get them out of my head.
Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
