I ought to be an otter, ‘cause when all is said and done I could play along the riverbank, or stretch out in the sun.
I'd swim beneath the water, or backstroke up on top.
I'd dive in like a graceful swan, or do a belly flop.
My days would be so peaceful as a furry, swimming mammal
As opposed to bearing burdens like a one-humped desert camel.
I wouldn't want to herd sheep like a working collie dog
Or end up an amphibian—a turtle, toad, or frog.
But oh, to be an otter! It would be a stroke of luck
Just to spend all day a-swimmin', or a-rollin' in the muck.
But oh, as fate would have it, I'm required to spend my time
Doing schoolwork. What a pity. It seems like such a crime.
The month of May has ended, and all across the nation
The schools have shut their doors, and all of the kids are on vacation.
Yet here it's still the school year, and it can't end too soon,
But the days are standing still, stretching till the end of June.
Ah, the otter, who, when sunshine makes the heat rise at the shore,
Stays within its coolsome burrow, eating clams and snails and more.
It swims along the river, catching crayfish, frogs, and trout.
I'd be an awesome otter—of that I have no doubt.
Right now I watch the summer tapping at each window pane
And count the days till school is out, and I can swim again.
I'll walk in glorious mud that squeezes coolness through my toes
And skip along the river, free from tests and schoolwork woes.
Till then, I'll be an otter, but only in my head,
And start the summer early there, along the riverbed.
‘Cause if I was an otter and could romp and roll and roam,
I wouldn't have to think of what to write for my class poem.

The end of the poem is ironic because the speaker
Group of answer choices

1 turns into an otter and swims away from school.

2 has finished the poem that seemed too hard to write.

3 decides to write a poem about an otter.

4 changes her mind and doesn't want to be an otter.