chalkboard poem
This is a chalkboard poem;
Written here and not at home.
It means nothing much;
I stand here & a piece of chalk I clutch.
There is no meaning to it at all;
This chalkboard hangs on Mrs. Bertot’s wall.
It is very short,
And so is she.
But ‑ who cares life is full of glee.
wil becker
1992.spring
