Despite a sizable and highly talented field, I walked away from the Shakespeare Poetry slam with 1st prize – and all the bragging rights and cash prizes. Speaking from memory probably had a lot to do with it. 119, where Shakespeare explains to his dad why he’s still in grad. school pleased a few people – though my reinterpretation of 138 probably won it. That’s the one that goes,
When my students swear that they are made of truth,
I do believe them, though I know they lie,
That they might think me some untutored youth,
Unlearned in the world’s false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that they think me young,
Although they know my days are past the best,
Simply I credit their false-speaking tongue,
On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed:
But who am I to say they are unjust?
And why should either of us say I’m old?
O education’s best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in teaching, loves not to have years told.
Therefore I front with them, and they with me,
And in our fronts by lies we flattered be.
We all had a blast – and the student readers were quite good.
