Saturday, March 22, 2008

In Praise of Lunacy

The professor is old—how old nobody knows.
It is believed that his beard caresses his toes.

The class was impatient—“Why should we wait?”
For as was his custom, the old professor was late.

When he finally came in, at least a half hour over,
he explained he had stopped to sniff at the clover.

“How do we know you won’t come when you should?”
His simple reply was—“The clovers smelled good.”

Yet they persisted, “Now will you give us a lecture?”
“That,” he said slowly, “is no more than conjecture.”

“Today,” he continued, “I will instruct you on how to be crazy,
for the insane are most often hardworking and never at all lazy.

I know many lunatics who are good and kind,
‘cause the right way to be is out of your mind.

For madmen are generally of very good cheer;
I myself have been mad now for many a year.

Simply scream out if you have any questions,
for I am quite open to all kinds of suggestions.”

“Well,” shrieked one, “what of two plus two?
With your lunacy method, what do you do?”

“If you do not know that one,” his teacher kindly intoned,
“I don’t know how you got here.” The students all moaned.

“Professor, what would you do if there was a war
and an enemy soldier came through at your door?”

“Now that is a real question,” the old man said.
“Perhaps I would ask him to stand on his head.”

“Do you skin a beaver from the bottom or top?”
“My personal preference is a sharp lollipop.”

Oh, how they mocked, how they all laughed and jeered;
the professor’s only response was to play with his beard.

They called him names; they shouted out, “Fake!”
The professor did not hear. He was eating his cake.

1 comment:

Laura said...

very funny poem.
Great did you think all of them up?
I love the calmness of the prof...sounds just like the college students of today, too, although they probably wouldn't have waited or complained that he was late. :)