Happy Thanksgiving!

This year's Thanksgiving poem is perhaps not directly related to the holiday, but it has a good message, and given the presence of two econ profs and one econ major at dinner, I could hardly resist reading it...

Economics
Gary Soto

The prof said, "It was a memorable class,"
And we applauded, none of us
Thinking of the old guy, really,
But how we, in our liquids that were mostly semen
And sweat, could get away. I gathered
My textbook, nearly unread,
A tome that I would sell because the country ran
On money, and I needed my share.
I left Economics 1, no brighter by numbers
Or national trends, and sat between two eucalyptus.
I tried to think of the Spanish verb
For shove off. After all, I was a boat
And these hard courses my choppy seas.
I let the thought go. Soon I lay on the grass
Between these mighty trees. I listened to the leaves,
Their fluttering sails, and slept
Until a dog sniffed my elbow,
A bone if I hadn't sat up and took control.
The pooch rolled his tongue, my breath
Giving off the scent of a recently eaten sandwich.
A common sight on campus,
He lived off handouts and drank from sprinkler heads,
Or licked the dewy lawns for minerals.
He studied the soft hearts of liberal arts students,
And, unlike me, knew about supply and demand.

Later, I sold my textbook
And took the cost-free excursion looking at girls.
Still later, I saw the old prof in the parking lot.
He was confused, helpless, as he searched for his car,
One hand on his ass, the snag of underwear.
I walked in front of him, the stingy bastard.
He couldn't hold a memory of his students for two hours,
We the brown pennies of his income.

Hey, Professor, I called, 

And, startled, he let go of his underwear 

And offered a smile that cost, really, 

Just about nothing.