Article: After Teaching.(Poem)

 
After Teaching 
 
   Who it Daddy? Who it Daddy? Joanie sang 
   when Benita rumbled up the aisle, a bull of a girl 
   leaning forward, falling from step to step. Who 
   it Daddy? Who it Daddy? And on the third day, 
   I saw, inside the larger swelling of Benita's swell, 
   an ancient couple turn a corner in an ancient city 
   and, holding hands, rise into twilight. They never fall, 
   the old couples who rise elegantly into evening. 
   No one finds them lying in wheat fields or draped over oaks 
   like collapsed balloons. Romantics say they rise forever, 
   but I believe they ascend so slowly they starve ...

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