Did you know that April is National Poetry Month? I didn't, until one of my English co-teachers told me about it. We read Billy Collins in class today and loved it.
Then we divided everyone up to work on their own poems. The results were amazing. I wish I could have gotten a copy of them all. (I should have asked.)
So, all I have is the poem I wrote. I wasn't planning on writing one because writing takes a lot of energy and thought. But since my students were working on it, I felt that I owed them my best effort as well.
Here it is:
Why My PhD is Difficult
There is a bug
that lives on the windowsill in my office.
All day long he and I work
at our respective jobs.
I move the files
from one drive to another;
organize them; compile them,
and prepare them to be analyzed.
He moves around on the window,
up and down, left and right,
trying to find a way to the outside.
Every so often he falls,
landing on his back
and struggles relentlessly to turn himself over.
I take pity on him
and hold out my pen so he can grasp it.
The moment I take it away,
he falls back down again.
I put my pen down on the windowsill.
I sit back now,
watching him pick himself up,
and make the trek back to the window,
to start his journey once again.
When he falls again,
I look at him understanding how he must feel.
I am not sure who is more productive.
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