Canto I. Arrival of the Comatose Word Deacons and open pig ying remarks.
George arrived, still working on a sonnet, something about another male gaze-
The Wilson sisters, all eighteen of them, were being stared at by the Wal-Mart man again.
Sarah got the call in the middle of her best palindrome-something about "Ten Animals I Slam in a Net"
Mrs. Potter left her fields and abandoned her sestina siesta, visibly distraught but not without her thesaurus.
That weird dude in the Neozeed leather jacket and Culture Club tee shirt threw away his thirty-eleventh villanelle and brought Red Bull for all.
Unknown foreign exchange students, $treetwalkers, and amateur chemists flanked the Moderns as they wedged their way between the Romantics and the Post-Raphaelites, chanting "Make it NEW" in an act of civil disobedience that woke a three-legged dog.
The arrival of Instructor cast a pall on us all, his flowing robes robbed the throng of song and hushed the rush.
"Good day and welcome, any cell phone interruptions will be unacceptable, be seated."
He proceeded to unroll a scroll, removed a blunt and lit it.
"There are matters that must be dealt with today, not tomorrow. The first agenda item is "Did Helen Feel Sorrow?'"
A few word protesters, screaming for the inclusion of Holden Caulfield's "Melancholy Meadow Poems" in the literary canon, were quickly dispersed by men in white coats.
(It can be said that-
The last time a mötley crüe like this assembled, tears ran down veiled faces)