shot glass
Issue # 1 March 2010
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Lois Marie Harrod

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Lunch at Lakewood Middle School

(a 14-line sonnet)


We grunts were sitting there, and I the serious one who likes funny
the way French huntsmen like foxes, said, note their green brit-
ches in these multi-collateral picture books we are forced to read out-
loud to our seventh graders to fit them into their standardized socks.

Wouldn't it be easier if everything electric could be plugged into
the same socket? We could take any old hair dryer to what was Czecho-slovakia.
We wanted to be uplifted, of course, shocked out of our sneers
but it was tricky in a thoroughly departmental office where none of us

had a desk. Once again Mia nibbled her tuna fish sandwich.
and outside the door, the police sniffed by like crippled bloodhounds.
Meanwhile, Sam read his newspaper: Natasha Richardson had taken

a little fall in the snow, and the bump led to a massive brain bleed.
No giggles there either, but we all laughed when I pretended
to be Stanley and groaned "Stella." It was the way we taught lit.