Cold Reading Poem by Brendan Constantine

It's really cold in here now,
easily forty below something,
and half the class is asleep.

Snow dazzles in the windows,
makes a cake of each desk.
It's really cold in here now.

I've been lecturing on the same
poem for twenty six hours
and half the class is asleep.

I want them to get it. I start
to talk about death again
and it's really cold in here now.

One student has frozen solid,
her hair snapping off in the wind
and half the class is asleep.

"See that" I say, "Lisa gets it."
But it's so cold in here now
half the class are white dunes
shifting to the sea.