One Afternoon When I Was a Lecturer

in pitch dark, how can a gaze so rashly

distinguish: men from women, righteous from evil, insects from aliens

time indulges from the left to right cheek

and when it stops, school’s out, the speaker’s platform sinks like a cliff

it turns out this world is enormous, hidden under every leaf

is a student couple making out on the sly, while on that pond, which looks

like someone pissed it there, though that’s not why it’s famous, float even larger tombs

no prep needed, you can raise your voice, you can morph

─but always be prepared,. since according to caller ID

my metamorphosis must begin as a butterfly, and that’s no joke.