Having stumbled on a Rube Goldberg tripwire,
my smiles and nods set off a Nor’easter
of private closed-door meetings, where
professional futures go to die,
grudges are installed,
administration smothers descent
with fluffy pillows of pleasantries.
This is not your childhood Jack and the Beanstalk nightmare,
but the ground shakes just the same, and the crimson
sunrise portends a Rose Parade of choreographed
back-stabbings—et tu Brute?—
followed by garden variety oppression,
Physical Therapy, and his nickname for me: Mrs. Grumble.
No worries: John Locke has teachers write all day
on the whiteboards of the student mind,
but they are clean by morning.
If this is a narrative disorder, try micro-
dosing with star dust.
Rachel Landrum Crumble recently retired from teaching high school, having previously taught kindergarten through college. She has published in The Porterhouse Review, Typishly, SheilaNaGig, and Common Ground Review, Spoon River Review, The Banyan Review and others. Her first poetry collection, Sister Sorrow, was published by Finishing Line Press in January 2022. She lives with her husband of 42 years, a jazz drummer, and near 2 of their 3 adult children, and two adorable grand twins. poetteachermom.com is her website.
Listen to our new interview with Rachel.
Was "smother dissent" intended?