Every MWF at eight-thirty
Prof McIntyre taught speech,
But during the rest of the week
His mind soared out of reach.

He tended to forget eating lunch
Or even what he had said,
And, were it not connected,
He'd likely forget his head.

On one foggy Monday morning
Ol' McIntyre came strolling in;
He began to lecture his students
With breath that hinted of gin.

He implored his college students
To use gestures as they spoke,
To give vivid and colorful examples
And now and then to joke.

To make your speech interesting,
Maintain eye contact and spirit, too,
Keep their attention and mumble not
And make liberal use of "you."

Soon he saw them all laughing—
Why did their eyes seem to dance?
As the wind blew through a window,
He realized he'd forgotten his pants.

After McIntyre quickly retreated
To more gin and vile words of cuss,
Students graded his performance
No less than a high A-plus!

—Charles Hedrick
Oklahoma City/1988