Buried in Paperwork 02/02/11

I read in the paper the other day
The news of the death of old Mr. McKay.
He taught me English in seventh grade
And even back then his nerves were all frayed.

They found him one morning, dead in his class,
When a student walked in for a library pass.
He was next to his desk, all spread out on the floor,
Buried in papers that stretched to the door.

Buried by essays and journals, and poems,
Buried by notebooks, and notes from their homes.
Buried by text books and work books and forms,
All of the paperwork that for teachers is norm.

Now he's at rest, his paperwork's done,
(Which when they removed it weighed more than a ton.)
His tombstone looks out on a green, sunlit glade,
With his name chiseled on it and "No More Papers to Grade."



©2011-Art Belliveau