Spanish Class

Here in Spanish class I sit,
I want to take a snooze.
They're conjugating verbs and they're,
counting to fifty by twos.

Graciela's nodding off.
Nick's staring into space.
Everyone else is staring blankly,
at Mrs. Munson's face.

My view of the teacher is blocked,
My Josh Hester's big ol' back
Beside me Cass is dilegently,
coloring her hand black.

Behind me Tim is drooling,
I really can't say why,
He's sitting in the wrong seat,
So he's about to die.

Tyler's fired up his fart machine,
I hope he gets in trouble.
Matt's hoarding up saliva,
and is about to blow a bubble.

I glance back over at Cass.
Is it possible to slouch anymore?
Than I slowly turn my head,
and look longingly at the door.

I draw attention back to learning.
Uno...um...Dos...um...tres?
I never did like counting.
quatro, sinco, seis?

I rub my throbbing head.
My brain's been throuroughly Spanished.
I do not like this class.
These books should hereby be banished.