Mr. Meecher, science teacher,
made a complicated creature,
like a science fiction feature,
in the classroom yesterday.
It was such a weird creation,
this fantastic formulation
was a magical mutation
that could undulate and sway.
It would wobble, it would wiggle.
It would jostle, it would jiggle,
making all the students giggle
as it bopped and bounced around.
It was stumbling and unstable.
Mr. Meecher was unable
to control it on the table,
and it tumbled to the ground.
It was jamming, it was jumping.
It was boogieing and bumping.
It was thundering and thumping,
like a disco dancing blob.
Mr. Meecher tried to grab it,
but he couldn’t seem to nab it;
It would scramble like a rabbit.
It would duck and weave and bob.
So he gave the thing a kick. It
then became a sticky wicket.
It was tricky, it was quick; it
promptly tackled him instead.
Now you know why Mr. Meecher,
our intrepid science teacher,
has a complicated creature
disco dancing on his head.
This morning is our history test.
I’ve pinned my notes inside my vest.
Inside my coat I wrote my notes,
including dates and famous quotes.
I’ve written more upon my hand
that only I can understand,
and in my socks and sleeves I stowed
my scribbled notes in secret code.
I’ve written down so many names
of winners of Olympic games,
of buildings, people, places too,
from Tennessee to Timbuktu.
I even copied down a piece
on ancient Rome and ancient Greece,
plus everything from Shakespeare’s plays
to who invented mayonnaise.
I came to school so well prepared.
I wasn’t nervous, wasn’t scared.
But here it is, the history test.
I look inside my coat and vest
to get the dates and famous quotes
and find I cannot read my notes.
So much for Shakespeare, Greece and Rome.
I left my glasses back at home.