My class…

… is very chaotic. Help. But I can make anything into a poem, sooooo….

One, two, three, four,
A few knocks on the door.
Five, six, seven, eight,
The teacher has come late!

Nine and ten,
Two practise zen (???),
Eleven and twelve,
Three dressed as elves!

Thirteen and fourteen,
The chalk‘s still unseen,
Fifteen and sixteen,
It smells like gasoline..?

Seventeen and eighteen,
IS THAT A FLAME GLEAM-
Two asleep at nineteen,
The rest is on the night-team.

And then there‘s twenty.
Let‘s say there‘s plently…
„Chaos“ without teachers,
And we should get the preachers.

(We were left alone for ten minutes. TEN MINUTES… And they shoved the tables aside, put the garbage bin on the blackboard and played basketball with a foot/soccerball… Help.)