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Homework Stew
by Kenn Nesbitt

I cooked my math book in a broth
and stirred it to a steaming froth.
I threw in papers—pencils, too—
to make a pot of homework stew.

I turned the flame up nice and hot
and tossed my binder in the pot.
I sprinkled in my book report
with colored markers by the quart.

Despite its putrid, noxious gas,
I proudly took my stew to class.
And though the smell was so grotesque,
I set it on my teacher’s desk.

My teacher said, "You’re quite a chef.
But still you’re going to get an F.
I didn’t ask for ‘homework stew,’
I said, ‘Tomorrow, homework’s due.’"

 

Text © Kenn Nesbitt, reprinted from When the Teacher Isn’t Looking published by Meadowbrook Press. Illustration © Mike Gordon. Any copying or use of this poem or illustration without consent is unlawful.

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