JACKASS by S.F. Wright

Don’t draw

Attention

To yourself;

At least

Pretend like

You’re doing work—

And I won’t

Bother you.

None of us

Wants to be here;

Let’s just

Make it bearable.

But

There’s always

One.

As I was

Lecturing to

20 mostly

Catatonic

Teenagers, 

Vaguely

Appreciatory of

The few who

At least feigned

To pay attention—

What do I hear?

A video playing

On someone’s phone—

This person 

Not even using

Earphones,

But playing

The video’s audio

Through the phone’s

Speakers,

No doubt thinking

That because

He was in

The back,

I wouldn’t

Hear.

Granted,

Earphones

Are prohibited,

But this kid

Was in the corner;

He could’ve 

Put on his right

Earphone,

Which I would

Have pretended

Not to have seen.

All of his classmates

Have figured this out;

Why couldn’t he?

I paused,

Stared at the back row,

Said,

What am I hearing?

No answer.

I waited another

Beat,

The video

Still playing faintly,

And then I said that

If I didn’t hear

Whosever phone that was

Turned off right now,

Everyone would have

To move

Their seats

To the front

(I let them

Sit in the back:

That way,

They are

Far from me,

I am far

From them).

A second later,

The video

Turned off.

My annoyance

Subsided,

I went back to 

Affecting to lecture,

Most of

My students returned

To staring

Into oblivion,

The courteous few

Resumed

Pretending

To pay attention.

S.F. Wright lives and teaches in New Jersey. His work has appeared in Hobart, Linden Avenue Literary Journal, and Elm Leaves Journal, among other places. His short story collection, The English Teacher, is forthcoming from Cerasus Poetry, and his website is sfwrightwriter.com.