Our teachers are from planet Mars,

They come in UFOs instead of cars

Their single green eye darts from here to there

Don’t go near them; don’t you dare!

They’ll chatter on about the French Revolution

Until you’re lost in a sea of utter confusion

They’ll poke you in the eye with a compass

And then say ‘Oh don’t make such a fuss’

They love to devour human flesh

Savoring it with wire mesh

They’ll tell you to keep a book on the rack

And then steal your candy behind your back

Their chatter about theories will never abate

Who cares whether for the next class you’re getting late

Who knows what their next dreaded question is

Does it matter? It’s not like you know what the answer is

To top it all, around every corner they will lurk

To ask you ‘Have you done your homework? ‘

• Jasmine Kaur