A young lady in that same class wrote about her boyfriend.
She didn't care who knew it.
His name was Johnny, and it turns out
every boyfriend in junior high school is named Johnny.
This guy gets around.
She said, Johnny, you're a spoon.
I hold you.
I eat with you.
I make music with you, but you're just one of a set.
[LAUGHTER]
What's so wonderful about that is she did not set out
to write that line, but it cascaded forward
from that series of things she was writing.
And when she arrived at it, she taught
herself a lesson that would last her the rest of her life,
whether she knew it or not.
Great poems are often like that.