English Poetry, Thursday period 1

[nuclear_snide]

The Danger Shop today was set up like a cross between a traditional class and a medieval scriptorium, with high wooden desks and reams of paper and quills and pencils at each. Bob was smiling. Did that mean you should all worry? Probably.

"Today is our final exam," he said, still smiling. "I'm sure you can guess what that is."

He gave them a moment to try, then clapped his hands together. "Poetry! Write one. Sonnet, free form, even an idiotic limerick. Write us a poem and read it."

He made a shooing motion. "Well, go on."

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[nuclear_snide]

Poetically!

Listen to the lecture, look around

[nuclear_snide]

Enjoy the atmosphere.

Class activity

[nuclear_snide]

Write poetry and read it to the class!

Talk to Bob!

[nuclear_snide]

He's here!

OOC!

[nuclear_snide]

I always hated these things. Write it? Sure! Read it in front of my asshole classmates? Hell, no!