This poem is called "David's Dream."
At the dream, a friend of mine had about me
and there's a little heading, a subheading,
I have a little quote from him.
He said once to me, when I said how I was living like a monk.
He said, you're not ready for the convent yet.
[INTERPOSING VOICES]
David's dream.
[LAUGHTER]
He said that he dreamed that everyone was meeting
at the baths tonight except me.
I'll be teaching there in the morning, so I couldn't go.
Well, he's got my number all right, I'm no fun.
I talk liberation, but my actions show otherwise.
And he dreams me as I really am, a ruler snapping nun
keeping the class in line.
I only-- my image is definitely bad,
I only show up at the baths when morning guilt
lights up the shabby linoleum and the employees
are scrubbing the love juice off the walls
and ceilings of the orgy room.
And the customers are putting on their jeans,
anxious to go home.
That's when I arrive with my attendance book
and a sad sack stuffed with experience,
teaching what I don't believe in and nobody wants to hear.
The lesson.
If all you can do is teach, don't do it at the baths.
If you go to the baths, don't go in the morning
and if you go into the steam room, take off your habit baby
and leave your ruler home.
[INTERPOSING VOICES]