BACK TO SCHOOL
It’s Not A Sin To Swear At Geese
Go on and leave, geese, don’t worry about me, I’ll just be here. Dying
I was in my little home office when I heard the honking:
Geese.
I went to the window to see if I could see them.
I saw them. They were flying in a sloppy V and yelling a message I’d translated long ago:
“It’s over! It’s over! It’s over!”
The geese, of course, were talking about summer.
Everybody loves summer, but some of us are in an abusive relationship with it, which means our love highs and love lows are so much higher and so much lower than those of the average summer lovers.
I’m not saying we’re above average or below it. We’re outside of average. Add us together and divide by the total number of us and you don’t get average. You get people everywhere standing at their office windows, watching August geese fly by, wincing at the honks, and saying what I just did:
“You mother fuckers.”
In other words, I’m a teacher.
Why, because I love education? Maybe. Depends on who you ask, and when. But it’s mostly because of the perks.
