The Class Clown

seated front row
parallel the blackboard.
All would watch
the lunch time matinee.

Teacher exited stage left;
the jester goose-stepped
in his wake, face contorted;
he resembled a pug.

The Big Desk - podium.
Atop he'd dictate, slack-jawed,
homework instructions
or maths equations,

knock-knock jokes and
faux-farting underarm.
Girls called him 'stupid',
he mimicked helium-voiced.

We'd pay in sweets,
crisps or sandwiches.
He never brought his own
and ate with mouth open.


Encore! Encore! We'd call
at the home-time bell.
'Knock knock' he'd say,
but never give a punchline.

Michael Loughran

If you have any comments on this poem,  Michael Loughran would be pleased to hear from you.