An afternoon grading on the internet, I walk out
To the November skies of Los Angeles, warm,
A day moon more orb-like than usual in the east.
The sun a shining lake behind fair weather clouds.
I’m thinking of you. How you stalked us in our
Classrooms for years, removing first our books.
Taking our grades and popping them on screens
That would never time out, even on vacations.
It’s you I blame whenever I can’t direct students
To a specific page, numbers eliminated long ago,
The corners, dog-eared, the scanning of the hand
Across print to mark a quote, to seize an argument.
But I’m a gnat on a remote beach of the economic
Planet to you staring at a sea of adolescents with
Endless passwords tattooed on their brains. Strolling,
I spot a Yellow-rumped Warbler shadowing me along
The side of the road. An intelligence, a god, birthed
Of the moon and sun. Buffering, my human hopes.
Alejandro Escudé published his first full-length collection of poems My Earthbound Eye in September 2013. He holds a master’s degree in creative writing from UC Davis and teaches high school English. Originally from Argentina, Alejandro lives in Los Angeles with his wife and two children.
