I’m Arranging All My Pencils

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I’m arranging all my pencils
in a pattern on the table
and I’m putting all my papers
in a pattern on the floor,
so I’m certain that my teacher
thinks I’m mentally unstable
and I’m hoping that she won’t
assign me homework anymore.

But my teacher doesn’t notice
and assigns me lots of reading,
so instead I’ve started coloring
my fingers and my face.
Now my plan to make her see me
is undoubtedly succeeding
and she probably believes
that I belong in outer space.

Yet again she hasn’t seen me
acting dingy as a doorbell
as I’m coloring my elbows
and my ankles and my knees,
so I’m dancing like a dodo
as I whistle and I warble
and she has to think I’m bonkers
or my brain is made of cheese.

Still she doesn’t bat an eyelash
as she gives me lots of writing
and she doesn’t even giggle
when she’s handing out the math.
So although my little plan was
undeniably exciting,
now I have to get my papers
and go home and take a bath.

 — Kenn Nesbitt

Copyright © 2005. All Rights Reserved.

Reading Level: Grade 6

Topics: School Poems

Poetic Techniques: Narrative Poems, Rhyme Schemes


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