The Smallest Pond

Hey there, high school teacher,

your talent to rebuff

but when you try imagining

your focus coarse and rough


Your feelings mostly borrowed,

your words ill-gotten gains

your hours spent in false critique

of someone else’s pain


You’re outclassed high-school teacher,

your envy on display

your pedantry a mocking tone

and pretense on parade


(To Wayne Miller: April, 1967)

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