Mrs. Ringenroth taught
us a sorta furrowed brow,
squint-eye kinda readin’.
Makes ya look all intelligent,
scannin’ the horizon of a line
for them steepled ascenders
and dots like dead crows
stuck on a cloud.
The educated boy
don’t move his lips.
The educated boy, dry-eyed,
gets hung up in the crease
closest to the spine
until the book slams shut.
It’s that mouth-breathin’,
fingertippin’, chapped-lip-readin’ boy,
that looks to the sky and blinks
before turning the page.
Image: frank mckenna on Unsplash
Sweet and Bitter Greens 
A minor revelation , full of wry humour. The staging of the educational process as theatre almost. Your mention of chapped lips, reminds me of an old joke about two cowboys settling down for the night. One lifts the tail of his horse and kisses its arse. The other asked why he did it, the answer came back ” I get chapped lips.” “Does that help?” said the other. “Well, it sure stops you lickin’ ’em…”
What a great joke. Mind if I tell it at work tomorrow?
You’re so welcome Devon. I worked as a pianist for lots of comics. Monk house, Cooper etc.