Chapter 36

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a/n: Welcome back, everyone. Guess who actually put up a chapter when they said they would? The 300 words a day thing has been really working out. I got this chapter done early and have the next one already in the works for next Friday. Anyways, enjoy your chapter which is mostly poetry talk with a bit of playful banter tossed in.

It was the first Monday in March. When Kayden sat down in his seat, the look on Mr. Adler's face told him that there was a new project of some kind. There had to be, he never looked that happy without some new book being introduced or essay being announced. He'd already passed out the new book last Friday, My Antonia, so of course, everyone assumed there would be some essay related to it announced in two weeks or so when they'd finished it. This though, this was strange.

"Alright, everyone, welcome back to class. Today we're going to talk a little bit about poetry. We'll do a basic overview of poetic devices, techniques, and rhyme schemes, but I'm sure you've all learned those before. In our next few classes, I want you to ask yourself one simple question. What makes a poem good? What makes a masterpiece?" Mr. Adler started, folding his hands on his podium. "Can anyone answer that for me?" He looked around a moment. "Tim."

"Quality?" The black-haired boy suggested.

"Yes, but how is that quality determined? Ian."

"Good grammar."

"That's one of the standards, yes, but-" He looked around, sighing and nodding a bit to Kayden with a smile.

"Good poetry isn't really determined by good grammar though, because a lot of famous poets break grammar rules, and poetry is a type of abstract art that can't really be judged based on traditional rules of prose, so how can anyone determine what is truly good or bad poetry past a subjective feeling? Does good and bad poetry even really exist when it's viewed as art? Of course, traditional art has a specific set of criteria that must be met and often follows basic anatomy and rules of physics, but modernist art and surrealist art don't do that and can't be judged by the same metric. In the same way, modernist poetry like E.E. Cummings might be considered terrible by traditional standards but was revolutionary for his genre and time," Kayden said.

Mr. Adler just looked at him, then covered his mouth with his hand as if he was trying not to laugh and Elias gave him a little smirk. "You raise a fair point. Most poetry, like art, is determined by subjective measures. So, tell me, in your own subjective view, what makes a poem good?" Mr. Adler asked.

Kayden thought for a moment. "It depends. There are factors like originality, genuine expression, and depth, but it all boils down to what feeling the poet is trying to capture and how they do that."

"So you're saying the only factors that determine whether art is good or not is whether it's innovative and honest?" Elias asked.

Kayden thought about it for a moment, resting his cheek in his hand. "It feels like there should be more to it than that, shouldn't there? There is, I just don't know how to describe it, like a depth of soul."

"I thought you didn't believe in souls," Elias said, seeming much too smug for Kayden's liking.

"I don't, but I don't know how else to put it without using that terminology."

"Boys, we will have plenty more time to discuss this question and come to some kind of decision because you're going to be answering this question in depth in our next project," Mr. Adler said with a smile. So that's why he was so excited at the beginning of class. "This month, instead of writing a book report, you'll be writing an essay answering the question 'what makes a poem good?' and then you will put together a small book of your own original poems. It will be done just in time for April, which is national poetry month. When the project ends, we will all share our top two favorite poems from our books with the class," Despite Mr. Adler's unfaltering smile, there was a resounding groan from just about everyone besides Kayden, Elias, and two others. "Oh, come on, it'll be fun, we're switching things up!"

Kayden was more than a little excited to be doing something like this. He'd already been writing his own poems for the poetry group which had been meeting every couple of weeks whenever everyone had time. Usually, only he and Grant shared their own poems, but occasionally Theo or Elias would offer a short one. He'd learned that Grant had more of a chaotic or adventurous poetic style and mostly wrote one long paragraph while Theo had taken to Haiku and seemed comfortable with that. Kayden mostly wrote free verse poems that sounded more like rants, but the group seemed to enjoy them.

As Mr. Adler went on with his lesson going over the basic concepts of poetry and giving examples of poetry from long-dead heroes of the art form, Kayden thought about what kinds of poems he might put in his book. He had a few ideas that he'd been working on. He felt like he was getting better at writing, even if he was new to it and definitely couldn't compare his own work to Elias' poetry. He didn't often get to see any of Elias' poems, but when he did, he was left blankly staring, trying to comprehend what he'd just read. He always felt like it was a privilege to be shown any of the blond's work, partially because he was so protective of it.

Kayden also sometimes found himself writing out unfinished verses and ideas in the margins of his notes along with his little sketches. He liked to think that he might consider himself a poet, even if he was only just beginning, it made him a part of something bigger than himself, something grand and beautiful, even if his contribution was small.

When there was only about ten minutes left of class, Mr. Adler drew his lesson to a close. "Alright, I want to give everyone a few minutes to get together with their partners and start planning out the project. I expect you both to split up the workload evenly. If I find that any one person has done all the work, the other will either receive a zero or do the entire thing again by themself. Now, let's see-" He looked over his class list. "How about I put Fred with Sam, Liam with Arlo, Greg and Dean will go together, Todd and Neil, Kayden and Elias..." He kept talking but Kayden sighed, glancing beside him to where Elias had a small smile on his face. Of course, they'd be paired together. At least he knew he wouldn't be saddled with all the work.

Mr. Adler handed out the rubric and project explanation papers and Kayden looked over them, already thinking about how they might break the project up. "I was thinking because it says we have to write ten original poems, we could each write five, and then I can design the cover of the book and you can figure out how to structure it and all that. Also, for the paper, do you want me to write the first draft and you can do revisions and the works cited?" He suggested.

"You seem to have it all figured out," Elias said with a soft chuckle. "Are you sure you want to do the entire first draft though? It says it's a minimum of five pages."

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I can write fast, I just hate revising."

Elias nodded. "Alright, that sounds good to me. I won't have too much time to meet until this weekend unless you want to use the time Friday."

"No, it'll be fine. We have a whole month to do it so I'll start on the paper in the next few days and then we can start working out what to do for the book," He said, resting his cheek in his hand as he glanced over the paper for inspiration. "Should we go for a theme? I think it could be fun to do a thing with nature and have half of it be a lighter, more positive feel and the second half be darker, framing nature as antagonistic and dangerous."

Elias seemed to think this over. "What if we based our poems around analyzing the relationship between man and nature. There's a lot of room to expand on that concept."

Kayden nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I like that. Alright, let's go for it then," He said, a bit more excited than most people would think a teenage boy should be over an essay and a writing assignment.

Elias just kind of sat there with a smug expression on his face.

"What?" Kayden asked.

"You're a nerd," He said, highly amused by this observation.

Kayden straightened up. "I am not a nerd."

"You kind of are."

"Well, you are too. You...glasses-wearing freak. You wear cable-knit sweaters like it's a thing."

"You read classic literature in your free time."

"So do you!"

"Yeah, but I look good doing it," Elias said with a smirk.

"Are you saying I don't look good?"

"No, just that you look like a nerd."

The bell rang and Kayden looked at him with a playful glare and a smile threatened to tug at his lips. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do," Elias said, picking up his backpack before he stood.

Kayden stuffed things in his backpack, trying to think up an insult. "Four eyes," He insulted as he walked after him into the hall.

"Ooh, that one stung."

"Like you could do better."

Elias turned to him with a cocked brow and crossed arms. "I don't need to. You're a twink who can't tuck his shirt in right. What are you gonna do, fight me?"

Kayden looked up at him, his face tinting pink. "I challenge you to a duel," He said, though Elias only laughed quietly.

"You should work on your comebacks," The blond said, patting his friend on the head before he walked off.

Kayden might have run after him, but his next class was in the opposite direction and his face being the beet red color that it was would probably undermine any argument he could come up with. Still, when Elias was out of sight, he gently touched the place on his head where his hand had been, smiling a little to himself.


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