Here is a my final project for chemistry. It's worth 50 points or something like that. A grade-builder, you see. My friends Brittany and Amanda and myself are doing a poetry reading complete with Amanda on the bongos, myself reading, and Brittany playing a tune on the clarinet.

To explain a bit, obviously we jocked this off of Poe's "The Raven." "The mole" is a quantitive concept... the number is actually 6.02 x 10^23 and you do a bunch of stupid fucking math with it. Amanda, Brittany and I all failed the mole test. Brittany actually made a 34, which fits our purpose as you will see.

I'll not explain anything else except the "water burning" concept. Mr. Allen did a demo (which he does every Wednesday) where he set water on fire. We've all bitched about it all year... It's a bit of a joke for him, you see... Stupid bastard. I made a thread about it when it happened...

Anyhow.

Here's the poem, it needs to be versed better and there are several grammatical errors that I'm aware of.

The Mole
By: Rhonda (me), Amanda, & Brittany

Once in Mr. Allen’s class on a day that was dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a bunch of junk I’d never heard of before,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my classroom door.
"'Chem. II students," I muttered, "tapping at my classroom door-
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was after a bleak December,
And the remains of Mr. Allen’s demo were still upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the break; - I didn’t know how much more I could take
I had to get out of Chem. for sanity’s sake- I was full of sorrow for my last test score -
For the rare and low 34, that was my test score-
I set it afire and it will be ash forevermore.
And listening to Allen, remaining uncertain while he spoke of the GAM of Aurem **(Grams Atomic Mass)
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I listened to the knocks repeating
"'Tis Chem. II students entreating entrance at my classroom door-
Some student entreating entrance at my classroom door;-
This it is, and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my classroom door,
That I scarce was sure I heard Mr. Allen"- here I opened wide the door;-
Pete Lee there, and nothing more.
Deep into that hall peering, long I stood there wondering,
fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
Dreams where water burns and proper multiplication is no concern
Water sets afire and 99 times 1 equals one hundred, oh what a dire!
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "34!"-
Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the classroom turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my classroom door.:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
'Tis some annoying special ed, and nothing more."
Open here I flung the door, when, with many a flirt and
flutter,
In there stepped a stately Mole of the saintly number of Avogadro;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, sitting outside my classroom door-
Perched upon the trash can just outside my classroom door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this brown Mole beguiling my intrigued fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Thy interrupt my learning, thou," I said, "art sure certainly a distraction,
Ghastly grim and ancient Mole wandering from the brain of Avogadro-
Tell me what thy lordly name is all over Mr. Allen’s classroom board!”
Quoth the Mole, 34 "Nevermore."
Much I marveled this ungainly mammal to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer with great- much relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing a mole outside his classroom door-
Rodent or beast upon the trash can outside his classroom door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown
before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only a 34,
Caught from some unhappy Chem. Creme whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his grades one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never- that 34 test score, nevermore'."
But the Mole still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I pulled a un-cushioned seat in front of the mole, and trash can and
door;
Then upon the puke gray walls, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous rodent of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous rodent of yore
Meant in croaking "34!."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the mole whose fiery eyes now burned; I began to ignore;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
For this mole was 6.02x^10 more cookies than I could explore,
But that would have been a challenge worth gloating o'er,
But Mr. Allen said, we’d all die, ah, nevermore!
Then methought the air grew denser, like water in a solid form, perfumed from sulfur we’d burned
At least in that lab, I received more than a 34, in which I earned.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these masses he
hath sent thee
Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of my test score! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this awful test score!"
I mean c’mon, it was only a 34!
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if rat or
mole!-
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here, mole, you’re such a bore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, at this Chemistry lab enchanted-
On this trash can by chemically haunted- tell me truly, I implore-
Is there- is there mole calculations anymore?- tell me- tell me, I implore!"
Giggled the Mole, "You got a 34!"
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil- prophet still, if rat or
mole!
By that Periodic Tables that hang above us- by that Diagonal Rule we both adore-
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant another mole score shall be added,
It shall clasp my GPA whom the counselors name a ingenious score -
Clasp a rare and low test score whom Mr. Allen named a 34."
Quoth the Mole, "34."
"Be that word our sign in parting, mole or rodent," I shrieked,
upstarting-
"Get thee back into the text books and the show yourself the door!
Leave no black Friday quiz as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my knowledge of fire and water unbroken!- quit the trash can outside my classroom door!
Take thy number from my head, and take the sig figs too!"
Quoth the Mole, "Nevermore."
And the Mole, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the trash can just outside my classroom door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a Mr. Avogadro that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming-- down came my mole test, falling to the floor;
And my grades now suffer from that low score that lies on the floor
“I thought I burned that!” I uttered–
But this 34 is here to haunt me-- forevermore!
-- THE END --

"...Then upon the puke gray walls, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous rodent of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous rodent of yore
Meant in croaking "34!."




Very good, Rhonda!

AzureStar said:

Gracias!