The First Day of Classes

Autumn quarter had just begun

I was gathering myself in my office

They assigned me to teach Geology Two

I knew nothing about it, felt nauseous

I looked at my watch, it was 9:58

My class was scheduled for ten

 I frantically searched for some lecture notes

Finding none, I grabbed paper and pen

I raced across campus to find my room

But they’d locked the entire first floor

I called the office to get some help

They sent me to Room 404

Now  it was seventeen after ten

 Over half of my students had left

I nodded to the class and hemmed and hawed

I had trouble even catching my breath

My topic for the day — the origin of earth

This was something I knew nothing about

I told a feeble joke about getting drunk

The back row stood up and walked out

The rest of the class just stared at me

They were shocked that their teacher was a fraud

My face turned red and my heart was pounding

My whole being was visibly flawed

I said a few words about summer vacation

I wanted to scream, “Please stay here”

More of the students were packing their books

I too wished that I could disappear

Finally there was only one student left

A red-haired young woman with glasses

She said she hoped I’d get better

Geology was the worst of her classes

At that very moment I woke from my dream

There weren’t any students in sight

I haven’t taught a class for umpteen years

You’d think I’d be over the fright