Vengeful monster bird

I took Laura last week with my poetry class to a reading—a wonderful widely famous poet, a woman whose work I’ve read and studied and really just enjoy tremendously. I had asked my class at the beginning of the semester if they’d be interested in attending a poetry reading, and since none of them had, they were (although of course I know that means they’d rather do anything else besides have to sit in class for almost three hours straight and work). So we road tripped down to the reading, state van full of students with Laura in the back and me up front, which didn’t actually work out all that well as I was also trying to check her math homework at the time. The reading itself was terrific—the poet read beautifully, and many of my favorite of her poems. Laura enjoyed the poetry, she said, but the twenty minutes of welcoming by the various big-wig administrators got a little dull for everybody. During the reading, there were two cell phone episodes—why won’t people turn off their cell phones? I can understand forgetting it’s on, but after the first person’s rings, wouldn’t you check yours if you’re not sure? Anyhow, towards the end of the reading Laura started drawing. Her monster bird enjoyed the menu that night—incidentally, my last night of class. Maybe I’ll have time to write again.