Wednesday, September 21, 2011

In Math Class

Long and tan slinky-like shavings
twist mediocrity to the tiled ground,
a sigh, a yawn, a roll of the eyes
dull pencil marks race to the sound.

@laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: 3WW (dull, race, yawn)

8 comments:

jaerose said...

Eww..yes..maths..even worse statistics..mind you without number skills you couldn't tell when the class (or time) will come to an end..Jae

Daydreamertoo said...

I can't tell you how much I hated math at school. Our math teacher was a 6foot four bully. He used to hit us all and I was so scared of being hit, what he taught went in one ear and out the other.
Nice, concise piece!

Andy Sewina said...

Nicely done!

Shauna said...

this poem brings back memories :}

christopher said...

My whole working life has utilized math one way or another. As an engineering designer I am intensively mathematical quite often. I don't need to utilize the calculus however for which I am eternally grateful. I failed at calculus.

The son of the squaw of the hippopotamus is equal to the sons of the squaws of the other two hides.

I use that formula often in one way or another.

Robert Lloyd said...

Ahh the dreaded math class. You capture it well and so briefly. Its almost as if you were there ignoring at you wrote this.

oldegg said...

Maths was not that bad, only the teacher was. After one sarcastic remark to me I was bold enough to say "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit"...and get away with it.

Mary said...

Give me English and social studies any day over math and science! It was hard not to yawn in math class.