PAWS said AUP 190.
First in first to sit.
Students slowly filing in searching for seats in the back.
The clock passes 2.
Professor ambles in, pants rolled up,
Sleeve tattoo.
Is this Chaucer?
He pulls out his laptop and
Exchanges pleasantries with familiar faces and scribbles
English 263.
Shit, I don't think this is Chaucer.
Ask the student next to me reeking of bad weed,
This isn't Chaucer?
He doesn't hear me so I ask him again,
This isn't Chaucer?
Still reveling in a grass stoked trance,
He slowly shakes his head.
Pack my bag and walk out
Feeling like a moron.
Where the hell is Chaucer?
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