[ENGL 3007]

he makes people laugh, but they're gusty laughs, full of air, when little sound is made. he induces blank stares. his lectures are catastrophic - you feel like you're learning or have learned, but when your ass leaves the chair, you have no recollection that you were even sitting in the first place. his head is shrunken. a light whisp of hair graces the very top, but as he turns his back there is a chalky, vacant sphere on the back of his head. just like a tide, it came in and is now receding. his cheeks are baggy, reminding me of turkeys as his mouth moves to speak. deep lines, from my eighth seat back, look carved into his face making it look like his mouth is set back further than his nose. his eyes are buried behind lenses that give off a cloudy glare and his ears are hogs, making his eyes appear insignificant. big for what... he obviously can't hear me from eight feet away. the wind coming through the window smells like autumn. the taste left in my mouth tastes like autumn. his toasty brown shirt reminds me of the dying summer season in time of him mentioning dead Juliet. he crosses his legs covered in grey-green corduroy exposing Nordic-like hiking sneakers. he appears comfortably warm, i assume with help from his pine green turtleneck. so it appears he thinks of color when he dresses but is ignorant to hues. one thing that does make sense to me while sketching him: he's kinky and messy like Shakespeare. he's talking about accordians. kaleidoscopes. Archie Bunker. i've made the correlation.

he squints. he interrupts. his head bobs softly up and down when he's not talking. his hands show years in lines. he's old.