VOL. XIX, NO. 3

BY TIM SCHIERBECK

While sitting in study on a long, lonely day,
I started to daydream, and drifted away.

When I awoke and found no one near,
I ran to the doorway, and was overcome by fear.

Cobwebs hung from the dusty old door,
and books of all kinds covered the floor.

I scrambled down the hall, over the books,
and hanging from the ceiling were the Maine West cooks.

Could the students have had a successful walkout?
Or maybe the teachers started this bout?

I wonder who left the halls in such a mess?
I bet the deans would be pretty upset.

Suddenly, I noticed the writing on the wall,
it started at the beginning of A‑wing.

It told the story of Donald Mule,
and how he and his gang conquered the school.

I turned away, filled with wonder,
who could have made this terrible blunder?

In my moment of greatest despair,
I felt someone pulling at my hair.

Oh, no. I've done it again;
I've just committed a cardinal sin.

I've fallen asleep in A‑222;
I wonder what the teacher will do?