Roger McGough
Liverpool / England
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The Lesson

Rating: 4.0
Chaos ruled OK in the classroom
as bravely the teacher walked in
the nooligans ignored him
his voice was lost in the din

'The theme for today is violence
and homework will be set
I'm going to teach you a lesson
one that you'll never forget'

He picked on a boy who was shouting
and throttled him then and there
then garrotted the girl behind him
(the one with grotty hair)

Then sword in hand he hacked his way
between the chattering rows
'First come, first severed' he declared
'fingers, feet or toes'

He threw the sword at a latecomer
it struck with deadly aim
then pulling out a shotgun
he continued with his game

The first blast cleared the backrow
(where those who skive hang out)
they collapsed like rubber dinghies
when the plug's pulled out

'Please may I leave the room sir? '
a trembling vandal enquired
'Of course you may' said teacher
put the gun to his temple and fired

The Head popped a head round the doorway
to see why a din was being made
nodded understandingly
then tossed in a grenade

And when the ammo was well spent
with blood on every chair
Silence shuffled forward
with its hands up in the air

The teacher surveyed the carnage
the dying and the dead
He waggled a finger severely
'Now let that be a lesson' he said
i eat cheese 14 April 2021
This is what you call a mass bullying.
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mike hawk 11 April 2021
imagine dying what a loser skill issue cry about it dnc
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ped ofile 11 April 2021
skill issue cry about it
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eeee 15 January 2021
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Susan Williams 13 December 2020
if school shootings had not become a part of life, this poem would not have repulsed me. But we've lost too many children to enjoy the humor in this poem these days. Not the poet's fault- just that times have changed and there's too much darkness.
1 2 Reply
Mahtab Bangalee 13 December 2020
carnage or the mass murder in a schoolroom where teachers and students are against fanaticism and radicalism but no room to be safe because the lessons of the hypnotizing mind are brutal powerful than the lessons of anything; whatever this is the poem of the postmodern chaotic fundamentalist world; greatly written that is
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Shaun Cronick 13 December 2020
This poem is like Bovril. You either love it or loathe it. Personally, I'm not a Bovril man. But a poem with two ways of interpreting it.
1 1 Reply
Lyn Paul 13 December 2020
A shocking poem that seemed so real. Raw and frightening. No homework today.
2 1 Reply
Ratnakar Mandlik 13 December 2020
The psychology of modern man, overstressed and over burdened, has been depicted along with it's consequences. Really, a modern poem of the day.
3 1 Reply
sir whatever 13 December 2020
Reminds me of a friend
3 1 Reply

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4/17/2021 6:39:18 PM #