First day of school so far

There’s a boy in my poetry class whom I have had in my short-story writing class and to my recall I found him extremely gross and vulgar. The class had its share of gifted writers and he was not one of them. He wore shirts with obscene phrases. His beard was unkempt and he just looked like he didn’t wash below the waist. We critiqued his short-story which I thought was a complete rip-off of Clerks and I called it an examination of a suspended childhood. Harsh, but it was true – the same post-adolescent homosocial relationships with a convenience store backdrop. He was worse than the guy who wrote about some pseudo-sci-fi babble about a boy and a (pretend!) dragon. So when I saw him and his sweaty fedora, I cringed. Then when class began, my professor started us off with an exercise in writing concrete images out of abstract words. For the word “deception,” Gross-Out Boy wrote, “A folded playing card in a tweed pocket.” I thought it was very clever because of the other images it evokes – the charlatan with money hungry eyes walking with tricks tucked into his clothing. So maybe I was wrong to caste such a negative opinion but then again, it’s only day one. He might wear that Pimpercrombie & Bitch shirt again.*

*That’s a play on Ambercrombie & Fitch, if you don’t know…

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