The first time he took his poet's exam, Mr. Emmons was so nervous he messed up the haiku portion. The next time he tried, he ran right through an iamb. After his third (or fourth) try, he passed the exam and proudly showed off his poetic license. He poeticized without incident for years. Then there was that late-night poem, after maybe a few too many glasses of sparkling cider. All of us have been through this, and usually get through it unscathed and unremarked. But Mr. Emmons had rotten luck that night — there was an English Lit prof on patrol. And this prof was the heavy tweed kind, you know the type, leather elbows, the works. As a result, Mr. Emmons's license is currently suspended, but luckily for us he is still recklessly, hilariously rhyming along at The Daily Rhyme and Word Chowder.