Hilarious bit about what happens when students are made to memorize great poetical works and can recite them at will for life, even when drunk and wandering the streets in the dead of night. This post from Fielding at The Guardian makes me regret not keeping up the curious habit of learning poems by heart so one can pull them out at odd times throughout one’s life. My fifth-grade teacher made her students memorize a poem of their choice every week, and then recite the poem on Friday. I loathed every single Friday from September through June in 1985. The vomit wants to come back whenever I see a Shel Silverstein book.
Posted by Alexa Harrington