Poetry for Beginners

Ned: Poetry? I thought it was ‘Puppetry for Beginners’.

Ed: Me, too, Bud!

Ned: I can’t do poetry.

Ed: And if you can’t do poetry, it’s a sure thing that I can’t.

Teacher: Well, Poetry it is, for Beginners it is, and about to start it is.

Ned: Are there ‘no’ puppetry classes?

Teacher: There’s not much call for them around here. There’s not much call for poetry, but just enough to run a class.

Ed: I think he needs poetry like he needs a hole in his head – like the one I’ve got.

Ned: Now come on, Ed, it was an honest mistake.

Ed: Like the time you locked me in the suitcase for three months while you had an ‘existential crisis!’

Ned: I came back for you, didn’t I?

Ed: Eventually! One could go crazy stuck in a suitcase for three months – I almost knew what Schrödinger’s cat must have felt like.

Ned: And how was that?

Ed: Bored stiff!

Teacher: Class starts in two minutes, shall I have the pleasure of your presence?

Ned: Not for me, I hate poetry.

Ed: I’ll give it a go.

Ned: Without me?

Ed: Well, I’ve always wanted to go it alone,

and poetry is something I could own,

you might not want in,

and that is no sin,

but my poetry I can hone.

Ned: Poetry for Dummies?

Ed: Yup! See you after class.

Ned: Good luck with it.

Ed: Thanks.

Ned leaves.

Teacher: Right, let’s get on with the lesson…

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