Poem for a Teacher, Grading

In honor of the season...

Poem for a Teacher, Grading

In this one, no thesis
In that one, no cites
The long one's a snore
The short one's not right.

Abandoning spelling
Escaping from pith
No staples, no numbers
No logic, just myth.

I glimpsed punctuation
I whiffed structured thought
'Twas only accomplished
By a paper web-bought.

An angel now singing
Comes to soothe my despair
Divinely she counsels
"Throw the lot down the stairs"

The ones at the bottom
Are full of B.S.
We'll give them an "F"
Their souls, we'll God-bless.

The ones near the middle
Are middling, we see!
They'll get  "C+/B-"
And if pass-fail, a "P"

The ones near the top
Well, clearly they're best
A  "B+/A"
"Kudos" and the rest.

Rebuking this angel
I invoked teacher's duty
To fairly assess
The young, dull, and moody.

I cited my training
My respect for the calling
My conscience as scholar
Both which I'd be galling.

The angel reached down
In her hand was a sandglass
She showed me my life
Blowing faster than winds pass.

In a flash did I follow
Her meaning so plain
I dared not look back
On a life spent in vain.

Grading aches lifted
Acute pains depart
I now dispatch low grades
With gossamer heart.

My afternoon grading
Is cut down by nine
I put on the radio
And sip on some wine.

So listen to angels
Or devils--or trolls
And don't waste your life's sand
Correcting dead scrolls.

David Hildebrand
Denver, CO


~M said...

Might I punctuate this with a "Hell yes!"? Staring at a large pile of to-be-graded drivel, I might take this to heart.

Dena Holper said...