A Scruffian
He was not in class today,
That poli sci brain,
He is a scruffian
With a scruffian mane.
He makes all his comments
With deepest sincerity,
He'll ask the right question
When questions are scarcities.
Verbal thoughts always relevant
To the topic at hand,
Yes of this scruffian
I am a huge fan.
He was not here today,
With his scruffian mane,
Poli sci stripped bare
Of his poli sci brain.
Hands of this poetic masterpiece. This gem's mine.
5 Comments:
Your poem moved me deeply and truly. Also madly. I love it.
Donnie
Heather, I just had the crazy thought that I might know the guy. Is his name Clinton?
If it is, go on a date with him, for god's sakes. That is, if you're not dating someone. Heck, even *if* you're dating someone- guys like that shouldn't go to waste.
If it's not him, I'd be happy to arrange a date for you anyways, because Clinton is awesome. He was my plan b.
So, is it him? Is it is it?
(By the way, the word 'scruffian' is *so* sexy. I can't get over it.}
Haha!
I have no idea what his name is. I think there may have been a Clinton in my class. 'Tis possible that it is the same gent. As for a date, I have never talked to him, perhaps I was intimidated by him clever class-time comments. Hmmm.
Tall, lots of facial hair, and, well, messy short hair in medium brown that is badly in need of a haircut? Always looks like he just rolled out of bed and is walking somewhere to do something brilliant?
Hmm. Just rolled out of bed, yes. Facial hair, no.
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