I am somewhat reluctant to divulge the secrets of the way I taught poetry, however, since you are a good friend and I trust you, I shall divulge.
- On the first day of the unit, I began by bringing a live chicken into the classroom. I instructed my students to write a few lines on the beauty of the chicken, dumb loud fowl although it was. Then I slit its throat.
- On the second day of class, I instructed my students to write a poem about the previous class. And write they did.
- On the third day of class, I served them fried chicken, and instructed them to eat the whole three pieces, or fail the class. And they did.
- On the fourth day of class, I instructed them to write a poem about eating chicken.
- On the fifth day of class, I showed them an industrial film of a chicken processing plant (dis)assembly line and instructed them to take notes. I smiled at those students who weren’t taking notes. Then they did.
- On the sixth day of class, I instructed them to write a poem about chicken.
- On the seventh day, I told them that we would all rest, but to pay close attention. We watched videos of Foghorn Leghorn, and the students then had a surprise chance to meet the San Diego Chicken, who was an ass, but nice, and amusing.
- On the eighth day, I instructed them to write a poem involving defamiliarization.
- On the ninth day we marinated breasts.
- On the tenth day, we wrote form(al) poetry, about chickens.
- On the eleventh day, we compared T.S. Eliot’s “The Wasteland” to chicken lifestyles, and we wrote free verse.
- Then we were done.
I hope this has been of some help to you. Give me some e-mail. My address is: firstname.lastname@example.org.
Best wishes, prosperity,
Joy, and intellectual authenticity,