We’re in some kind of classroom. There have been a series of presentations, people getting up and making remarks on this or that article, people giving a show-and-tell demo of some object. We settle into some of the desks in one corner of this large classroom. The session is wrapping up, right? And we are done with our presentation, so why not just lay low and wait for this thing to be done. Some guy sitting near us asks if his presentation can be a poem that he has written. The teacher says yes. Some other guy sitting across from me rolls his eyes like What a freak… I try to pay it no mind. The aspiring poet scratches down a few things on a notepad as fast as he can and then jumps up onto his desk to begin his oration. The poem seems to be about the writing process itself and the words imply that he is looking for others to “live edit” the piece along with him. The guy sitting across from me starts making snarky remarks. So I stand up and get on top of the desk as well. He sneers and tries to intimidate us but we will hear none of it. We won’t stand down and despite his threats, he leaves and we continue without him.