Stutters To The Substitute Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Silver stutters spark the
Third-grader’s nervous lips
Like an impotent lighter
Trying to socialize with
The invitation of a
Waiting cigarette

In response to the
Substitute’s petite and
Alluring question,
The knowledge of which
He does not possess,
Though the intoxication of her
Experience encourages
A response

She is waiting at the
Head of temporary authority
Wagging her cross-stitched hips,
Looking like his mother
Curious as to what he will say
A syllabic fulcrum upon which
Her love must hinge,

But he can only produce
The noise of his underage intoxication,
The fumbled mumbling in green vines,
Sitting in a puddle of lukewarm piss,
Until she draws back from him
In a classroom of laughter,
The unutterable bouquet
Of her stymied interest.