A High School Teacher’s Sonnet

For Derek

The sonnet makes so many students groan
As if I’ve offered them a bowl of mud
If they were cats, the sonnet’s a dog bone.
No love of artful language fuels their blood.
Shakespeare’s long dead, no use to their rich lives
Of spending every minute on the phone.
“Off and away,” I say; their eyes are knives,
Perhaps the tiny screen is their hearts’ home.
I get it—know the small black mirror’s lure,
The raunchy memes, the vines, the sexy text!
But still, such techno banter is manure
In which to sprout a bard’s mind, so complex.
Groan as they may until the couplet’s done,
Some even say they had a little fun.


2 Responses to “Touché:
A High School Teacher’s Sonnet”

  1. Fey says:

    Holy moly. You rhymed. And this saddest thing. Phones are our hearts homes. A sort of sickness. Yet. Here am I. Sending a couple droplets of manure to your couplets

    • wordweed says:

      It was in response to a sonnet my student, Derek, had written:

      Sonnet in English 3

      The school system is broken
      They want everyone to fit a mold
      They don’t understand that it should be open,
      To fit everyone young or old

      In English we must learn about sonnets
      They even make us write our own.
      But most of us don’t even want it.
      Heck, half of us are on our phone.

      I guess I have to wrap this up,
      So that I hit the turn
      And relieve the build up
      This poem I wish to just unlearn.

      But I have to admit now that I’m done,
      I did have a little fun.

      By Derek Davis Abbott

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