We've been reading The Rape of the Lock in Brit Lit, which is a satire mocking ordinary events by describing them melodramatically. I gave my students the assignment to write about something that happened at ICSB in overly dramatic poetry, and I really enjoyed the results. One student wrote about the travesty of how her makeup ran in the rain, and one wrote about how horrible it was that she forgot her lunch. My favorite, though, related specifically to my class.
When I first got here, some of you kindly sent over hand sanitizer. Although you can find it now, it's still pretty rare, so the kids always clamor around my desk using my sanitizer. Right before Christmas, though, it ran out. This is the poem written to commemorate that fateful day.
The sun was shining, the air was cool
on that fine Monday morning I walked into school
I entered our room with a skip and a hop
Then I witnessed a horror that caused me to stop
There on the desk was a pale lifeless form
and inside my chest grew a tormenting storm
I screamed for the others to see this sad sight
This terror that drug the whole world into night
The salt from my tears could have flavored a roast
but then a thought hit me like some ejected toast
forever and ever my extremities dry
Then I looked at my hands and renewed my cry.
A new wave of sorrow like the death of a god
electrified me like a lightning rod
we tired to keep using, like a cow and its cud
But to my dismay it had lost too much blood
I'll remember the day that the Germ-X died
No longer shall my hands be 99.9% purified.
I thought it was clever. :)
(no worries -- we have a new bottle now!)