In tweed and glasses, he makes his way,
To lecture halls where students gaze in awe,
But today he feels the skies might sway,
With thoughts enhanced by nature’s little straw.
He stumbles on his notes, a hazy show,
Forgotten theories drift like clouds of raw.
“Er, um—transcendentalism!” he starts to say,
While drifting through a spacey, cosmic crawl.
The students chuckle, they know the game he plays;
A bit too much of Mary Jane after all,
The chalk dust dances in the sunlight's glow,
As he conjures up a lecture for the hall.
“Let’s examine fate!” he suddenly proclaims,
“I once saw Schrödinger’s cat outside my door!
An existential crisis aboard a train,
Just think of all the things we can explore!”
With wild hand gestures, he begins to sway,
As brains begin to churn, crammed with folklore.
“Oh, abstract thought is like a ball to play,
A game of catch with minds so vast and sore.
Remember, students, life’s just a buffet,
So grab a little knowledge, and don’t ignore!
The clock ticks on, but he’s lost in the fray,
While half the class is now snoring on the floor.
He wraps up class with a smile and a grin,
“Tell your friends, my lectures are so profound!
You may just walk away with a nug or win,
Or at least a decent grade, if you stick around.”
The final bell rings, and he stumbles out,
While visions of far-off beaches dance astound.
As dusk approaches, the campus wears a haze,
He wanders off with laughter echoing bright,
A college prof in a delightfully daze,
Learning and teaching through the lens of light.
And though he’ll swear he had it all legit,
Tomorrow’s class may not go quite as right!
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
