The Canterbury Tales: The Sequel By: Bryan Schell
When in October, when summer is done Children begin to have much, much less fun In the morning the freezing cold is hard to beat Until the afternoon sun brings unbearable heat At Two and thirty there rang a bell And 4,000 kids were freed from their Hell Or school, as it’s known in more mature lore But most of us find it a horrendous bore. Students tear out of the school at tremendous speed, For sleeping and TV is all that they need. Into the parking lot that I did roam And encounter I did people all heading home. Sorry I’m begin to sound like ol’ Yoda, But 10 lines is the Canterbury quota
As I began my journey to my casa I saw a bando who said, “Bryan, que pasa?” He wore a red shirt with the bando ensign And was practicing marching in a straight line He then broke out his horn and he played me a tune His song was so soft and it ended too soon. Musical stuff brought this bando delight Just as federal prisoners like a good fight Smart as an owl and quick as a mouse He slipped out of the school to practice at his house
I next met a surfer who, no doubt, Had been at the beach that day, through out. First through four periods, but he didn’t mind He came to fifth, sixth and lunch all of the time Ditching a class gave this surfer no fear As long as the waves in Del Mar he could tear And eat once a day at the place called Roberto’s Investing his money in two California Burritos Daydreaming in class he did very well Smiling and thinking of last fall’s fat Alaskan swell
With the surfer there was a poser, Who pretended to do things so he could be closer To other kids who thought he was great Until the day they found out that he couldn’t skate, Or bodyboard, or fly an airplane, Or scuba dive, or sing in the rain. After telling everyone he knew that he was sponsored Or that he was back stage at the Incubus concert The poser had to lie, so friends he could make. He just told me he can do the Harlem Shake.
A little farther down in a parking space Is the kid whose school he tried to deface. He likes to graffiti and tag up the halls Or dump out trashcans all over the halls. This kid runs over light poles in the stadium! To me, he’s starting to sound kind of dumb. If you’re gonna vandal, go somewhere new Why don’t you go try to mess up Westview? On Monday, I couldn’t get into my locker, All because of this stupid crocker.
Also leaving the school, I see Ester’s dad This man, he is very mad. At the cross country team, we got in his way And bad things about us he started to say. He loves to bike, and has his own biking suit The man even has a special biking boot! One day a teenager stepped in his path And procured Brother Horspool’s mighty wrath For the poor guy fell off his bike and on his head. Lucky for us the guy isn’t dead
Also leaving the campus was a girl from the chorus Whose sweet singing voice was hugely enormous. She had a bumper stick that said, “I love to sing” She also had it etched into her class ring! All the highest notes, you know she could land ‘em, Too bad all the words of her song I couldn’t understand ‘em, Even before school she had sung, A song in Church about Brigahm Young. But after being at school singing Doe Ray Mi, She decided to go home for a cup of tea.
With her was a friendly punk rocker, Who also happened to play Mt. Carmel soccer. Every Friday a show he would see, Featuring bands with feelings that were angry. Every morning he would gel his mohawk And burn a CD full of good rock. He liked to wear black even when it was hot, At the thrift store was where his clothes were bought. With other punkers he would oft mingle, And wear his belt that would often jingle.
I then saw a teacher, who spent all of his days Shaking his head and thinking of ways. To ditch school for Disneyland or surfing and such He used the sick excuse one time too much. Last year he told me he was taking a class; Surfing 101 was the class that he passed. He soon had to think of a better idear, For the principal's suspicion he was starting to fear. He then figured he could ditch school just fine If he taught two Brit Lit classes online.
On her way home I saw an ASB kid Sign painting and hanging wasn’t all that she did. She planned all the dances all by herself And worked harder than Santa’s strongest elf. She worked late hours in the ASB room, And cleaned up glitter with a plastic broom. She also runs the student store Which contains candy and ice cream galore. My personal favorite, if you don’t mind, Is the strawberry shortcake ice cream kind
Directing the traffic through sunshine and fog Was one of the campus’ funny “yard dogs.” Their primary mode of getting around Are golf carts that in the pool can drown. They sit in the morning and stare at cars real hard. At lunch they sit and check one’s ID card. They don’t really do much, but by them I abide For someday I’m hoping they’ll give me a ride. Now even a yard dog’s mind can roam, At two and thirty every one wants to go home. http://powayusd.sdcoe.k12.ca.us/online/Britlit/pages/TheCanterburyTales%20bryanschell.ppt