Nov 15
 
 

Today’s Topic is Landslides

 

In front of the classroom of my dreams

with nothing to talk about, my mouth

swings open like a door in a mountain,

snow or rocks or dirt taking a dramatic

swan dive into a pool of secrets.  The

substance is immaterial; our fascination

is with the space that’s left, the nothing

at the edge of our shoelaces, the infinite

luckiness that it didn’t strike us,

that we are still standing in front of classrooms

filled with multitudes, that we still have

something to say, that only a few have fallen

into sinkholes, that we have not yet

dropped out.