– Or A Summery of American Literature II, in Poetic Verse –
Author’s Note: I wrote this poem with my friend Nikki and A. It is a summary of our American Literature class this semester and it is rife with swearing and the word Cock. If you are offended by this, don’t read the poem. Sorry Not Sorry, E.
I have seen the best students of my major destroyed
Madness, caused not by stress or sadness, but I have seen
them lose their minds to short stories
Most notably the Greek epic, “Sonny’s Blues,” the true pinnacle
of the entirety of human literature
Has been drilled into the minds of unsuspecting English students,
expecting more, but receiving less.
It is the mark of human nature to repeat our mistakes;
thus we returned day after day.
We tried to make sense of an increasingly devious puzzle,
but the mind of our professor could not be cracked.
“I’m a nice guy, but fuck up on MLA and I will finish you,”
the prophecy foretold.
I saw students stew in their incompetancies and struggle
with their citations.
The types of things that enrapture us: the contemporary
corpocracy of the U.S., and why folks get high.
I swear I heard screeching in the walls; “Power-powerless
stick, you’re on the wrong end!”
With the very hearts of the powerless stick pulled from their bodies
good to eat w/ all the junk we’re shootin’ for a thousand years.
Our heads bashed in with concrete and music, It’s gonna be a world
of hurt, a world of hurt, a world of hurt.
And a sphinx. Because Egypt gave us schwarma and gyros and hot
dogs, because Design governs things so small as digestion.
We sat through made up mechanisms, and historicisms, and so many
isms it would make the bureaucracy of our corporate
Moloch! Depriving us of Slaughter House Five! Moloch! Capitalism taking
over my TV! Moloch! I just wanted to watch King of the Hill!
Sonny! States orbiting the Earth! Sonny! Blues and Digressions and Fire!
Sonny! I just wanted to read and analyze and learn!
Cock! I was just happy I could use Cock in an Academic paper!
Poems we haven’t gone over, Final papers, Monster of English,
The final death of God!
I’ll do minimum work for minimum wage! Skip the 3rd paper,
Take the 95, thank God! Hail Moloch!
Holy! The last four days of our Hell in Pamplin Hall, that the end
is in sight, Be free, my people, be free from that which
I have a dream…That one day…It will be a comfortable
temperature in that room.
That, one day, this Appalachian hillbilly might teach something other
than Post-Modern half-truths
That, one day, we may leave the classroom without hearing the devil
whispering in our ear “Mooney teaches ‘Howl’ in Hell!”
You’ll read “Sonny’s Blues” in Hell! In the heart + fire of Pamplin 3001!
Think for yourselves, but trust me ‘bout the government! Or
I’ll ensure you feel a world of hurt.
Revolt, Brothers and Sisters! Change the face of Society! Of Hell!
Of Moloch! Of Sonny! Of Ginsburg, Nemerov, Frost, and Still!
And I ask you, where the fuck was Vonnegut?! And 1865 – 1945? Two
World Wars, The Great Depression, Casablanca? Amen. Amen.
That, in 45 minutes, 3 students wrote a poem and listened to their professor
rant about life, death, cancer, the bloody fuckin’ 1 percent, ANYTHING
But, on the bright side, the silver linings playbook, Andy got to use Cock in
a paper! We’ve won a battle- Let’s win the war!
God bless us every 1.