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What makes D2 curl into a ball
And cry like a spanked girl?
Poetry, poetry, the horror, the horror,
Handcuffed sex does not bore her.
At this point you may wonder why
D2 is talking randomly about girls and kinky sex.
Well, first off, he's a guy!
Secondly, BDSM be a Baptist hex!
What is forbidden entrances us
Like watching a child getting run over by a bus.
(No sex before marriage
Will avoid any miscarriage.)
D2 always wondered why feminists wrote poems
Until he realized the power of words.
Nobody reads pompoous academic tomes,
But people do like reading about turds.
The Vagina Monologues made D2 feel odd
As many girls screamed cunt
Like they screamed "Oh, oh, oooooh, God!"
When someone's penis slammed their rump.
Anyways,
D2 must explain why he hates rhyming lines,
Says,
D2 as hands and feet of a girl he binds.
Way back when he was a senior in high school,
He thought taking senior AP English would be cool.
So he naively took AP Literary Analysis with Mrs. Kropp,
Which he should have been smart enough to drop.
But he wanted to be valedictorian so bad,
And wanted to make his parents glad,
And avoid making his elder sister mad,
So he went to that class like a foolish lad.
Lucky Andy and Random Jameson sat to his right,
While D2's scheming roommate sat to his left.
They would all learn that poetry was a blight
Upon those whose command of English was not deft.
On the very first day,
the very first day mind you,
D2 walked in expecting Mrs. Kropp to say,
Nice to meet you all and good day!
Instead, D2 knew this class blew,
When Mrs. Kropp assigned a timed writing (that was so gay)!
(Political correctness is overrated,
Especially if you are outdated.)
For Mrs. Kropp, D2 wrote two essays a week,
as she tried to get D2 to his writing peak.
The meaning of the author he did seek,
Yet the author's meaning always eluded your favorite geek.
Inevitably, Mrs. Kropp always complained,
That D2 needed to write much, much more.
For Mrs. Kropp had to be pained
To see D2 unaware of his powerful writing core.
[Sheesh, I may be facetious to say she was a whore,
But these days, I am strenuously strained,
Whenever I even think of poetry (what an eyesore!).]
Simile, metaphor, alliteration, assonance,
Synodoche, metonymy, onomopeia, consonance,
The jargon of literary analysis,
Makes D2 in his pants piss.
You may have heard of "The Convergence of the Twain",
A poem about the Titanic's sinking.
Poetry would become D2's bastardly bane,
Since it caused him mindbending thinking.
Throbbing with headache the first time he analyzed it,
He turned in that timed writing full of bullsh*t.
Mrs. Kropp drew a beautiful sunset,
To let D2 know he was full of pretty sh*t.
She made the entire class write their analysis again,
And again,
And again,
AND AGAIN!!!
Yes, D2 had to write about the same stupid thing,
Not once, not twice, not thrice,
but until D2 was not so nice.
Indeed, out a window Mrs. Kropp he wanted to fling.
(Defenestration is such an unusual occurence,
That it would be great deterrence,
Against those like Mrs. Kropp the slavedriver,
Which is what D2 truly thought of her.)
Shakespeare is supposed to be an English master,
But in Mrs. Kropp he provided D2 only disaster.
Hamlet, his longest work, we had to read,
Hamlet's uncle did the dirty deed.
Brevity is the soul of wit,
Yet D2 thought Shakespeare was a twit.
It wasn't because Shakespeare sucked,
It was just that D2 got f*cked,
When Mrs. Kropp gave them a quote test.
She didn't warn D2 that he would need no rest
If he wanted to pass that piece of crap.
Yes, yes, Mrs. Kropp knew she had a bad rap.
(Five essays in five days over a Danish prince,
Would make anyone wince.)
And then there were the Shakespearan sonnets,
Which were sort of mundane, to be quite honest.
D2 had to go over Sonnet 129,
In which Shakespeare wrote about S-E-X sublime.
Then D2 knew what preoccupied everybody over thirty.
They all eat, drink, dream, and think dirty.
(D2 wonders if this is because many
Of them aren't getting any.)
Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment punished D2
As Christ figures D2 would come to rue.
There a Christ figure, here a Christ figure,
Even a prostitiute can be Christ figure.
(Go figure!)
Konrad's Heart of Darkness ripped D2's heart apart,
Selling his soul as well at S-Mart.
(Army of Darkness reference, ain't I smart?)
Ibsen's A Doll House had an alternate ending,
That might have been more heartrending.
Flaubert's Madame Bovary,
Had more than one promiscious ovary.
Camus's The Stranger resonated with D2
Because it struck the pessimist as true.
Hesse's Siddhartha was the favorite of D2
For it made D2 think about what he would do.
Two other "great" writers D2 did analyze
Though those that call them "great" are full of lies.
The first was some guy named John Keats
Whose famous odes are considered literary feats.
D2 had to modify one,
So he chose "Ode on a Grecian Urn."
D2 wrote "Ode on a Fortune Cookie"
A sad poem about how he wasn't getting any nookie.
The second guy was worse than the first,
Even if D2 is not sure who is the worst.
D2 thinks his name was John Donne,
He was not a lot fun.
Donne would write about the sun.
And it would be a sex pun.
It could be about a gun
or how someone liked to run,
or why a baker makes a bun.
You could say it was all about sex and be Donne.
(Yeah, that guy wrote about sex a ton.)
If D2 did not have to read all this stuff for a grade,
He would not have read it at all, I am afraid.
Now D2 is thankful that Mrs. Kropp made
Him study about getting laid.
It's made him understand the human condition better,
So he isn't confined by a faith's fetter.
(You know, Magic: The Gathering improves your vocabulary
To the point where you're looking up "fetter" in the dictionary.)
Anime and its prevalent sexual themes,
Can be understood at its seams.
Video games understand the principle that sex sells,
That's why Rated M games come with warning bells.
Blogging about the wildest sex stories you possess,
Will turn you into an instant LJ celebrity success.
(Hey, I have read those stories Ferrett-sensei.
Yet,
I bet,
Mrs. Ferrett is as amused as the rest of your rambunctious readers, I dare say.)
Aesop once wrote "We often despise what is most useful to us."
That is why D2 absolutely hates poetry.
(This is conclusively the end of the story.
Now go watch a child get run over by a bus.)
And cry like a spanked girl?
Poetry, poetry, the horror, the horror,
Handcuffed sex does not bore her.
At this point you may wonder why
D2 is talking randomly about girls and kinky sex.
Well, first off, he's a guy!
Secondly, BDSM be a Baptist hex!
What is forbidden entrances us
Like watching a child getting run over by a bus.
(No sex before marriage
Will avoid any miscarriage.)
D2 always wondered why feminists wrote poems
Until he realized the power of words.
Nobody reads pompoous academic tomes,
But people do like reading about turds.
The Vagina Monologues made D2 feel odd
As many girls screamed cunt
Like they screamed "Oh, oh, oooooh, God!"
When someone's penis slammed their rump.
Anyways,
D2 must explain why he hates rhyming lines,
Says,
D2 as hands and feet of a girl he binds.
Way back when he was a senior in high school,
He thought taking senior AP English would be cool.
So he naively took AP Literary Analysis with Mrs. Kropp,
Which he should have been smart enough to drop.
But he wanted to be valedictorian so bad,
And wanted to make his parents glad,
And avoid making his elder sister mad,
So he went to that class like a foolish lad.
Lucky Andy and Random Jameson sat to his right,
While D2's scheming roommate sat to his left.
They would all learn that poetry was a blight
Upon those whose command of English was not deft.
On the very first day,
the very first day mind you,
D2 walked in expecting Mrs. Kropp to say,
Nice to meet you all and good day!
Instead, D2 knew this class blew,
When Mrs. Kropp assigned a timed writing (that was so gay)!
(Political correctness is overrated,
Especially if you are outdated.)
For Mrs. Kropp, D2 wrote two essays a week,
as she tried to get D2 to his writing peak.
The meaning of the author he did seek,
Yet the author's meaning always eluded your favorite geek.
Inevitably, Mrs. Kropp always complained,
That D2 needed to write much, much more.
For Mrs. Kropp had to be pained
To see D2 unaware of his powerful writing core.
[Sheesh, I may be facetious to say she was a whore,
But these days, I am strenuously strained,
Whenever I even think of poetry (what an eyesore!).]
Simile, metaphor, alliteration, assonance,
Synodoche, metonymy, onomopeia, consonance,
The jargon of literary analysis,
Makes D2 in his pants piss.
You may have heard of "The Convergence of the Twain",
A poem about the Titanic's sinking.
Poetry would become D2's bastardly bane,
Since it caused him mindbending thinking.
Throbbing with headache the first time he analyzed it,
He turned in that timed writing full of bullsh*t.
Mrs. Kropp drew a beautiful sunset,
To let D2 know he was full of pretty sh*t.
She made the entire class write their analysis again,
And again,
And again,
AND AGAIN!!!
Yes, D2 had to write about the same stupid thing,
Not once, not twice, not thrice,
but until D2 was not so nice.
Indeed, out a window Mrs. Kropp he wanted to fling.
(Defenestration is such an unusual occurence,
That it would be great deterrence,
Against those like Mrs. Kropp the slavedriver,
Which is what D2 truly thought of her.)
Shakespeare is supposed to be an English master,
But in Mrs. Kropp he provided D2 only disaster.
Hamlet, his longest work, we had to read,
Hamlet's uncle did the dirty deed.
Brevity is the soul of wit,
Yet D2 thought Shakespeare was a twit.
It wasn't because Shakespeare sucked,
It was just that D2 got f*cked,
When Mrs. Kropp gave them a quote test.
She didn't warn D2 that he would need no rest
If he wanted to pass that piece of crap.
Yes, yes, Mrs. Kropp knew she had a bad rap.
(Five essays in five days over a Danish prince,
Would make anyone wince.)
And then there were the Shakespearan sonnets,
Which were sort of mundane, to be quite honest.
D2 had to go over Sonnet 129,
In which Shakespeare wrote about S-E-X sublime.
Then D2 knew what preoccupied everybody over thirty.
They all eat, drink, dream, and think dirty.
(D2 wonders if this is because many
Of them aren't getting any.)
Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment punished D2
As Christ figures D2 would come to rue.
There a Christ figure, here a Christ figure,
Even a prostitiute can be Christ figure.
(Go figure!)
Konrad's Heart of Darkness ripped D2's heart apart,
Selling his soul as well at S-Mart.
(Army of Darkness reference, ain't I smart?)
Ibsen's A Doll House had an alternate ending,
That might have been more heartrending.
Flaubert's Madame Bovary,
Had more than one promiscious ovary.
Camus's The Stranger resonated with D2
Because it struck the pessimist as true.
Hesse's Siddhartha was the favorite of D2
For it made D2 think about what he would do.
Two other "great" writers D2 did analyze
Though those that call them "great" are full of lies.
The first was some guy named John Keats
Whose famous odes are considered literary feats.
D2 had to modify one,
So he chose "Ode on a Grecian Urn."
D2 wrote "Ode on a Fortune Cookie"
A sad poem about how he wasn't getting any nookie.
The second guy was worse than the first,
Even if D2 is not sure who is the worst.
D2 thinks his name was John Donne,
He was not a lot fun.
Donne would write about the sun.
And it would be a sex pun.
It could be about a gun
or how someone liked to run,
or why a baker makes a bun.
You could say it was all about sex and be Donne.
(Yeah, that guy wrote about sex a ton.)
If D2 did not have to read all this stuff for a grade,
He would not have read it at all, I am afraid.
Now D2 is thankful that Mrs. Kropp made
Him study about getting laid.
It's made him understand the human condition better,
So he isn't confined by a faith's fetter.
(You know, Magic: The Gathering improves your vocabulary
To the point where you're looking up "fetter" in the dictionary.)
Anime and its prevalent sexual themes,
Can be understood at its seams.
Video games understand the principle that sex sells,
That's why Rated M games come with warning bells.
Blogging about the wildest sex stories you possess,
Will turn you into an instant LJ celebrity success.
(Hey, I have read those stories Ferrett-sensei.
Yet,
I bet,
Mrs. Ferrett is as amused as the rest of your rambunctious readers, I dare say.)
Aesop once wrote "We often despise what is most useful to us."
That is why D2 absolutely hates poetry.
(This is conclusively the end of the story.
Now go watch a child get run over by a bus.)
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