Rich H. Kenney, Jr. is an associate professor of social work at Chadron State College in Chadron, NE. His essays and poetry have been published in Streetlight Magazine, Social Work Today, and Cloudbank.
Ice Fishing in Room 103
It’s the flag
that springs up
when learning strikes
that makes me
want to teach
or, at least, salute.
Far-sighted lesson plans
anchor attention,
beg perspective,
inspire
see-in-the-dark
sense and inquiry.
Yet, sometimes,
the flag doesn’t trip-
the lecture drifts
or the exercise
drowns
in deep-water paradigm.
That’s when I reach
for the tackle box,
the go-to
sweet-and-sour lure,
the one scratched
in reality bites.
You can make cases
for tables and tenets
and textbook theories
but, occasionally,
it’s the hook of practicality
that keeps me from saying
you should have seen
the one
that got away.
Of Ponds and Pedagogy
Onto lily pads
Teaching lands ideas
Ones with legs
Light enough
To cross the water’s
Thumbtacked rafts of green,
Wending ways
To purpose
Ones with teeth
Sharp enough
To cut through
Thick stands of cattails,
The patrolling reed towers
Of sameness
Ones with soul
Deep enough
To venerate
The silence of snails,
Musings of frogs,
The Tao of dragonflies
It’s in the approach,
The quiet arrival,
The delicacy
Of delivery
Here We Go Again
The next time you represent
the winning run at third
in a game racking up
extra innings,
ignore the voice within,
the one you know
as here we go again,
the one that likes
to reminisce with tales of fiasco-
like the time in grade school band
when you single-handedly
flubbed the grand finale
with a rowdy,
out-of-sync cymbal crash;
or the time in junior high
on Science Day
when you sparked
the sure-to-win experiment
into shocking plumes of smoke;
or the infamous senior class play
when you blurted out lines
from another show…
There’s chemistry in a message
once you find its rhythm,
once you feel its energy.
And for everything lost
in hasty crescendo,
there’s an understudy
waiting to be heard.
Next time,
listen closely
to its monologue
about here we go again
and the chance to get it right.
Take your lead
with an eye to the mound
because maybe you’ll break
with the pitch-
or maybe you have;
maybe you’re already home…