Delinquents

By S.F. Wright

We’re to stand

In the corridors

Between classes:

A deterrent

To loitering,

Tarrying.

Usually,

This is annoying;

But before my last class,

I welcome the duty,

Prolong it.

My eighth-period students

Are loud,

Uncontrollable;

Adept at

Using their phones,

But not much

Else.

And I have

To explain stuff to them

Like they were ten.

In a movie,

The teacher would

“Break through”;

These students would

Become enlightened,

Realize their potential

Through

The power of literature—

And with the help of

Their teacher.

Alas, these delinquents

Will just go on

Causing more trouble,

Making a bigger

Mess of their lives than

They already have.

Sometimes,

As I stand in the corridor,

The bell having rung,

The room’s occupants

Getting loud,

Restless,

I have the desire

To walk away,

Quit.

But I enter the classroom,

To attempt

Another

Lesson,

For no other reason than

That it’s my job,

And if I stopped,

It no longer would be.

S.F. Wright lives and teaches in New Jersey. His work has appeared in Hobart, Linden Avenue Literary Journal, and Elm Leaves Journal, among other places. His short story collection, The English Teacher, is forthcoming from Cerasus Poetry, and his website is sfwrightwriter.com.