Remember the Physics teacher?
He had a temper,
But I liked him,
Looked forward to his classes,
Gas piped to every table,
Remember his punishments?
Standing on chairs with arms outstretched,
Until tears rinsed the bravado out of belligerent boys,
The twist & lift of the side burn,
The surgical throw of the Blackboard rubber,
The Red his face would turn,
When he’d set us work,
He’d retire to his office,
Door ajar to ensure obedience,
Whilst he fashioned custom grips for hand guns
(Listening to Terry Reid – ‘Seed Of Memory’)