All my students look like Ashley Olsen,
even the boys. I say this not to disparage them.
They are green & newly grown. Their smiles
are too big for their small faces. They shift
their bodies as if on stilts. They wait for the
laugh track before they make their next move.
I feel older now. I think I remember them
as children, child stars.
Didn’t we once cross the Golden Gate Bridge together?
How strange to see them here again, assembled,
this new version of Full House,
& I the single father of this class of Ashley Olsens
who sometimes, while my back is turned,
arrange themselves into rows of Mary-Kates.