In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

114 KEN WALDMAN The Substitute Teaches the Sestina “So, take six words you love. Any six. Last year a tenth-grader wanted dead, die, dead, dying, deathwish, and suicide. Her sestina was an elegy to herself, ‘I’m So Dead.’ Any questions?” “Hey, teacher, I got some questions. I don’t understand what love’s got to do with being dead. Also, what if we don’t want to write a sestina. How about a limerick?” “Yeah, teacher, I wish we didn’t have to write a poem. I wish I was dead.” “Mr. Teacher, my question is what is a sestina and how did she fall in love with one once she wanted to be dead?” “Teacher, how can dead people write?” “Does making a deathwish count as a poem?” “Why’d you want to come here and teach?” “I have a question. Are you married?” “Teacher, I’m in love with you, and when I grow up I want to be a sestina.” “Yeah, teacher, could you tell us what a sestina is one more time?” “I know—it’s when you’re dead and you write an elegy.” “No, it’s when you love six words.” “No, it’s when you have a deathwish and you’re a poet.” “Teacher, I have a question. To pee, or not to pee—do you want me to pee in my pants?” “Why would anyone want to pee in their pants?” “Is this a sestina?” “I haven’t been listening. What’s the question?” “Wait. My student began: dead, dead, dead, dead, I’m so dead. / Don’t I wish I could commit suicide. / I’d love to die, / because I want to be dead. / Then, no more sestinas or deathwishes / or questions about dying, / or love . . .” ...

Share