Mr Schooler Taught Us All Things Backwards Poem by Mark Heathcote

I remember our English teacher, Mr. Schooler.
Who quickly rose through the ranks to headmaster?
He was a slick, well-dressed, snazzy kind of rooster.
He'd read all those teachers' books faster.

They were told to read books backwards for one hour.
Then I was asked to read normal and forward some reports.
Not all reported improvements... I thought how dour.
He quizzed us with paperclips, a chuckle, and a snort.
 
Telling us, I bet you can't 'guess class' what profession
When asked to list all the uses for a paperclip, it came in at the top.
He boasted that none would get it; a bowl of contention
Hmm, I thought this was too easy. One boy shouted at the cop.

Another yelled out, astronaut; another said, doctor!
I laughed. Another banker, another butcher.
Confidently, my hand went up to this dismissive proctor.
Who didn't want my answer? So I gave him Famer.

He looked deflated. I just thought how patronising
that he should think a man of such great ingenuity
wouldn't make his list and isn't this just stigmatizing?
A profession; don't all things involve some congruity?