Zanna, Hello and Goodbye, 6.30 am

My friend,

The young Kurd who works
A daily twelve-hour shift

At the local service station,
Has been on duty long before daybreak,

But as my bicycle is not
An automobile

And thus needs nothing
But air, he remains

In his cubicle and continues
Listening to songs

Of the motherland. Still, I know
He keeps an eye out for me

For when I leave,
I see an upright hand

Waving in the air.

Billy Gets Them Kids (and the Teach) "Ejucated"

And when that happens, it's enlightening
pandemonium!

Loss

After all these years,
Still so much

Depends wholly
On the dearly

Departed.

Definitely Not Lemmings #23

I'm pleased to welcome Paul Martin as another Definitely Not Lemmings; Paul's well-written and intelligent posts focusing on but not limited to teaching and education can be found here.

Bang, Bang—You're Dead

Some claim

The sacred realm of poetry
As their sole rightful hunting ground,

And never miss the chance to kill
Whatever presumptuous poacher encroaches.