parched

Haiku for tchu

I cannot mark this

cannot cannot cannot mark

this without coffee.

Amidst marking, freeeeezing my tukhesh underneath the aircon vent,

spilling teh tarik all over my work desk,

sitting in for lessons,

and surfing the net

while listening to beyonce, britney and lady gaga

there is a growing burning in

my gut.

It could just be the sudden enslaught of gastric.

In fact, that probably is what it is.

I.

Hate.

This.

Anticipation.

This.

Incapacity.

This.

Incipidity.

Incipidaciousness?

I.

Hate.

Shit.

I.

Have.

A.

Class.

To.

Teach.

Now.