‘Method Envy’ by Chloe Clark

There is something about chalkboards
in emptied classrooms: the last lines
still ghosts of once formed lessons.

Seeing them, I might daydream a band
formed only of teachers, this is where
they’d play their sets—when

the campus is almost asleep,
the students away, and the offices
still lit up in Brutalist buildings.

But, more often, I think of what
I could say to you if you asked
me what my day was like:

how many times I paced in front
of the room, the projector whirring
itself to life, how many students

raised their hands to ask: when
something was due, if I’d be in my
office, how many pages is this

assignment, again. And how many
students didn’t raise their hands
when I asked a question. There

lies discrepancy between these
numbers. But, I most want you
to tell me the plans you drew

up, the way you formed each
thing you said. I want to imagine
you in front of the class, because

I imagine you as a pacer, too. A
walker between desks, your voice
reaches the backs of rooms, or

it does when I think about you.
In my mind, the things you write
on chalkboards
never are easily erased.

From issue #3: autumn/winter 2016

About the Author
Chloe Clark’s work appears in Apex, Bartleby Snopes, Hobart, Lockjaw, Midwestern Gothic, and more. She can be followed on twitter @PintsNCupcakes.