by Audrianne Porter 

My science teacher looks a lot
like a trout in a suit
the way his bottom lip protrudes
from a spotted, leathered face
his lake-bottom eyes,
pebbles pushing out two rings of soft skin ripples
pulsing from watery glasses
reflecting the overhead light. 

He reaches to us with hands
quivering like two fish out of breath,
clearing his throat slowly, halfway
while I sink to the shallow bottom
of gleaming dust in refracted sunlight
muted, crooked by the pounds of water
between him and me.