What Chaucer forgot

By Chie Theresa Fujioka

The Teacher: Prologue

There was a teacher of older age
Whose hair implied that of a sage
Above his head this cloud arose.
Just as plethoric was his nose
Which long and skinny did protrude.
His frame in that one could include
But the belly was the exclusion
Good eating evidenced by that protrusion.
Juxtapose the nose, blue eyes were fixed
Peering past the black bound frames betwixt.
A tunic and black pants he wore
Although I'm not quite sure what for.
London birth provoked curious speech,
Yet other accents, he could one of each.
More intriguing speaking was the way
His hands embellished what his words would say.
But what stood out about his looks
Was his large assortment of coloured socks
But it was never he would be seen
Wearing any shade called green

About this fact, his tale is told
Answer to the questions manifold.

The Teacher’s Tale

Long ago and far away
Actually last St. Patrick’s day
Dismally overcast, the air was hot.
Abnormal weather this was not:
The moisture of the coming rain,
Sticky thick, rather mundane.
A class I had again to teach
Where only I was blest with speech
Or so it seemed since no one said
A thing unless forcefully led.
The long thin finger of the clock
Did my very patience mock
As it meandered to the top
Only down again to drop…
My students stared into the air
As if to burn a black hole there.
The heavy lid and glassy eye
The sleepy shrug, unhappy sigh.

But suddenly there came a rapping!
No… only some fingers tapping.

On that day I had worn green,
Without which I would have been
Humiliated to the merciless pinches
Of vengeful educated lads and wenches.
Student spirit was naturally depleted
Another “fun” day not completed.

By a monstrous force was I assailed
All attempts towards teaching failed:

First a monster ran through the hall,
A monster which was far from small.
With three ears and a GQX shaped nose
Three million coins hung on his clothes.
His hair like furballs of a cat
Ingested, digested and re-spat.
A mushroom cap upon his head
He ran about with feet of lead.

The students woke to enact a clamor
As if they had never seen one before!
Could restore equilibrium
From this anti-learning pandemonium?

But soon enough, as luck would have it,
Fate was intent on wreaking havoc.
A corner computer quietly retired,
Stood up, and itself unwired.
The Cyclops turned its boxy eye
Blinked, babbled, beeped and waved good-bye
Lectured on computer rights
Then skittered out with flickering lights.
Other computers, following his lead,
Had a quick conference, and soon agreed,
Threw off their bondage, plastic, wire,
Lit firecrackers and caught on fire.
Careening about, with pops and a bang
Shrapnel screeching speedily sang.

While I tried to impede the flames
Marshmallows roasted, students played games.
Some others sat with mouths agape
Their lips forming a O-like shape.
Some interviewed the surviving rebels
Who blipped and burped at inaudible levels.

And some still slept...

The books, not wanting to be exempt
From the class-wide celebration
Left for a well-deserved vacation
Leaving words piled on the floor
Bent and tangled, not coherent anymore.
Their jagged corners, edges and points
Curves, flats, sharps and joints
Reached out, brambles my clothes to snag
‘Til my tunic was a tattered rag.

By then my nerves were very jumpy
And I began to feel quite grumpy.
Why did things have to go amiss
When I wore the color green like this?
Since then I’ve been superstitious
And i'll admit, overly suspicious
Of everything that may be green
Plants, people, and clothes, I wean.
Which is why you see none on my feet.

---

(Just a note: this was written for english lit class and describes the teacher who always wore wacky colour socks... except green, which IS my favorite colour)

Lines removed Except near the stomach where
Proof of good food he did neatly bear.

And when he smiled, he smiled not;
Instead he grinned at us a lot.)

(And though I don’t wish to be mean
T’was a shame that he lacked green).

Saw not the winged creature droning by
In the window, out the door
Actor in our lives no more…

Written 2001 Edit 2010

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