His lips move, stumbles over words.
Long pause





Professor seems concerned
for his obvious lack of intelligence,
her eyebrows lowered.

I wonder what it would feel like
to grab the thin iPod from the desk,
and fling it against the wall.
How many pieces would it break into?

I wonder what it would feel like
to grip his greasy hair,
and slam his head,
just once,
onto the peeling table top?

I smile to myself and cross my arms,
the fantasy playing out again and again.