Grammatical Jumble

Wake up.  Breakfast.  Coffee.  Cosmetics.  Dental Hygiene.
Out the door with a tote of essays and grammatical jumble.

Public transit, standing or sitting.

A beep to enter the building.  The clang of keys on a desk.
Small plastic boxes containing the afternoon nutrition
into the fridge.

Preparation.  Essays.  Hunting for glue sticks.
Problem solving.
Sighing.
The echoed sigh in the shuffle of papers.
A lesson.  One mite of information transferred.
A glimmer.  A spark.  An ash.  An argument.

The heaving of a printer.  The bleeding of pens.

Incessant clatter on keys.  Lines upon lines upon lines of emails.

Communication.  Jumbled and tumbling colleague to colleague teacher to student teacher to administrator administrator to parent to student to teacher to parent

A forgotten assignment.  A lost essay.

The rustle of papers, again insulated in cotton
with empty plastic boxes.

Relocation.

Different keys. More pens. The same papers.

Less students, but still grammatical jumble.