I dedicate this poem to the class teacher who
misinterpreted my talking as heckling and commanded me to do the above after
school, when I could have been playing the piano, or tennis, or writing a poem.
The stupid phrase-scribbling activity not only wasted time, but also ink. I was
not one jot better for doing this stunt. The sadistic teacher had the joy of
tearing up my long procrastinating list (of 99 lines!). It was his own
procrastination. He could have been doing something useful, and so could I. I
don’t regret that wasted time, however. It taught me how to procrastinate! The
quote is from David Copperfield, the novel by Charles Dickens. To quote myself,
I would say that there is almost no subject that does not adapt itself to
satire!
