Dr. Comprone's Biography   Dr. Comprone's Poetry   The Test   The Earth's Wavelength   Obamathon

The Test

Silence in a defunct class.

I can hear only the solitary rustle of papers,

And I observe students carefully

For any sign of roving eyes,

Whispers,

Or for the inconspicuous

Marks that  often are

Tattoed on their palms

Or even better,

Concealed on a small sheet of paper.

I watch knees bounce up and down,

and I see the sign of relief

Written on students' faces

As they march out of the classroom

Like troops going to war,

Without a trace of joy.