Professor, I was in the hospital all night
with a morphine drip;
shaking and crying as they
poked and prodded. Really.
*The ambiguous nature of your Philosophy class
makes me dizzy—
so I decided to find the meaning of life in a Starbucks cup,
frothy foam, and the banter of friendship.*
Yes, Professor, I realize that I missed out on some key terminology,
not to mention a stimulating lecture
on the importance of faith, but
*isn’t faith too personal for these stark walls,
your icy dissection?
I find more meaning in the pews of the local Catholic church
even though I am a devout Protestant.
Plus, the topic of Christ as a battering ram
did come up over my second double latte.*
Certainly, Professor, I understand the importance of regular attendance.
I missed out on the chance to participate in colorful discussion—
*not to mention how each of my comments is torn ear to ear,
scrutinized, or shunned altogether.
This room becomes larger by the word.
I much prefer this cozy table with its international
creamer choices.*
Of course, Professor, I deeply value this class:
It fulfills the Literacy requirement for what I really want to study.