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Fan fiction 15: Stephen Spender


I think continually of those who were truly great,

My sixth-grade teacher, calm with numbers, time

The basics of map contours, end-rhyme

To a room of fifty. Didn’t hesitate.

My history teacher too, the flaneur of crime

A walking argument at the blackboard;

In class, chalk was mightier than the sword,

A Renaissance man in his own lunchtime.

My medieval tutors’ future views

Patient, their infinite preparations,

Translating cribs into the latest news.

And that teacher on whom I had a crush

And others yet with fancy curricula/-ums.

She asked me a question, made me blush.

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