Morning

Five more minutes,
chapter 10,
lost without my syllabus.
Pushing forward, reading back,
four weeks until
Shakespeare class.
I'm looking in nooks,
cubbies and dog-eared books for poems.
Brush, brush, brush-
the hair looks good painted
brown sugar.
My Secret,violets and sweet peas;
a dab of Eternitybetween the breasts.
I roll down the band,
sliding into his khaki shorts.
Five more minutes
before racing towards
the next big thing.