Speaking of poems, Hannah.
There will be a test on quatrains,
Here is a loaded gun, don’t fuck it up.
That would royally suck.
Worse than a fucking quatrain.
I had to write one today. A quatrain, or a 4-line poem. Then we had to write a classic quatrain next to it, and have a classmate try to figure out which one was ours and which was by a classic poet.
Mine:
I hate quatrains.
Fuck this quatrain.
If we have a test on quatrains,
I’ll fucking kill myself.The other poem I used was the first stanza of an Emily Dickinson poem.
My partner picked out which one was mine. ):
I may edit it a little before turning it in.