from Black Jack’s basement

[Note: Blackjack was a persona I used over twenty years ago, when I was editing "The 21", a union newsletter for highschool teachers in our end of Ontario.]

So now it’s okay to be late by a day
or a month or a week with assignments;
and please don’t admit that you copied a bit
it’s all right: copyright’s a confinement.

I suppose the next thing the pundits will sing
will be students are teaching the classes;
and knowledge itself will be stored on a shelf
while they shove their heads up their own assets.

Surely these assets can see what will pass
if they practice this brand of stupidity:
the path it will take will lead to the wake
of our country and eyes’ high humidity.

Someone tell me everything’s a dream
for if I wake to this, I’ll have to scream.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else?
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