Our teacher’s like no other teacher we’ve seen.
She likes to wear costumes from last Halloween.
While shouting a sonnet she’ll dance with a broom,
then sprinkle confetti all over the room.

She asks the opinions of Mr. Levesque,
the mannequin head that she keeps on her desk.
She jokes with the hamster and claims he can talk.
She wrestles erasers and argues with chalk.

She likes to make sculptures from typewriter parts
and brings us her heavenly blackberry tarts.
For homework, she says that we have to go play,
and watch no T.V. for the rest of the day.

Our teacher is either completely insane
or some kind of genius with oodles of brain.
But whether it’s madness or cerebral powers,
we don’t think it matters; we’re glad that she’s ours.