Quarantined Professor

Three months into the pandemic, I'm still holed up in my house. No classroom, no students, no, not even a mouse.

My professor clothes are still hung in the closet with care, I spend days in pajamas, unshaven, frizzy hair.

I've no longer student essays, so I'm writing naughty books. Trying to preserve my sanity. I don't care how it looks.

Yes, I'm still a professor, though one who has no class. Hungry for human contact, craving a hot piece of ____.

~g

YOUR ASSIGNMENT: Complete the poem.

CORRECT ANSWER: pie 🥧