why my history prof told me to get the fuck out of his class

I think he’s bigoted.

Complains about the Muslims,

the script of Arabic, 

its use of dots and

sickles; unaware we’ve

loved its digits all this

time;

rails against Halal,

the Ayatollah what’s-his-name,

the mapping

out of stars we’ll never

reach.

He warns about Sharia.

Incendiaries

under every

hijab.

I say they bestowed us

Ali Baba—

the wonder of the jinn,

the dance of

the 7 veils

and magic carpets.

Stereotypes, he scoffs

and he is right. I take

another stab:

They gave us algebra—

ok, that’s a piss-

poor selling point.

He boasts about the Romans.

That was civilized.

I bring up every nail

and crown of thorns.

A man

the lunch of lions

while they cheered.

I challenge him to

count from Z to A—

in his beloved,

Roman numerals.

Ask him why

so many V

are taking space,

why III will speak of

pillars when it’s IIII

that hold things up,

how X can be

correct

when we think of it as

wrong, how Nero

played a fiddle

when it wasn’t invented

yet, knew a lyre

spoke the truth in

jealous flame.

Andreas Gripp

October 4, 2025

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