God is great and we’re repressed,
And we thank him for our tests.
To his account our dues are paid.
Give us, Lord, our daily grade.
Every week
The same students
Come to the same room
To hear the same professor
Talk on the same subject
He’s been teaching for years.
I come . . . I go . . .
Greet the friends I’d like to know and
Sit in my void of fears.
Who are we?
What do we mean
In this time and in this place?
“Potential.”
“What?”
“Do you have a moment to waste?”
