Poetry

---

I ROWED AS HARD AS I COULD

I remember taking a class long ago when I was young
The professor was dry as a parched dessert day
Looking around, heavy eyes of students drifting away
Like a wild boar he foraged on as if we were listening

As he began reading from his postmodernist manual
Dredging up dead heroes from the other day
Red slayers that believed they believed they slayed
Democrats and Republicans who lost their way

When his lecture was over we limped off wounded
Waiting to be chased by a pack of tundra wolves
My head pounding with the sound of thundering hooves
As if at any moment knowledge could trample us

I am I, who never understood anything he had to say
Though he let me believe he believed I understood
He even let me climb into one of his wooden seats
Allowing me to row and row as hard as I could.

By Rick McGrath, Ph.D.

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE AS A MEMBER OR VISITOR