“The seeds of destiny are sown in mysterious realms.“
“What does that MEAN???”
“It means that destiny is, well, OK, it’s like this. The seeds of destiny are sown in strange places.”
“Yeah but what are ‘seeds of destiny’?”
“So the whole vagina uterus thing is a ‘mysterious realm’?”
“Tom and Trevor, have you got an interpretation of that line of poetry to share with the class or are you giggling over something else?”
“Sorry Mr. Schmidt.”
“So, have you interpreted that line?”
“Trevor did, but I think he’s wrong.”
“Tom, there are no ‘wrong’ interpretations of poetry. The poet just wants you to think about what he’s said. Trevor can’t be ‘wrong’. There is no ‘wrong’. We don’t use that word in my class. Go ahead and tell us what you think. Stand up so we can hear you.”
Trevor stood, sure in his interpretation.
“Well, like ‘destiny’ is our future, right? And the seed comes from our dad and goes into our mom. And all that stuff inside women is pretty weird and mysterious. Realms are places. That’s what it means, ‘the seeds of destiny are sown in mysterious realms’.”
Mr. Schmidt’s face went pale and he held his lips tightly together.
“Dude,” Tom whispered, shaking his head, “I told you.”
Sharon, Shannon and Sherry turned bright red. Janine, Jerome, Janelle, Jessica, and Jim laughed so hard tears streamed down their cheeks. Ramona, Robbie, and Rex sat stunned, afraid to laugh because maybe Trevor was right and they hated this poetry shit. Others sat wide-eyed, staring at Mr. Schmidt, waiting for a cue.
“OK,” said Mr. Schmidt. “Who has the next line?”