I never let a teacher near

who claimed to know what's up

coiled gurus mellowly remind

my classmates how they had been wild

these blue-eyed-feeling men with swollen laps

praise their female students' vulnerable prose

I can hate them but I can't help smiling at them

but my heart is quick for the women who stepped back

sweatered with paper necks who knew

who would be frightening for me to read and when

and when I asked them for advice refused