Chapter 134

"Well, well, the true feelings of this poem by comrades of the Poetry Association are revealed."

"The poem of the comrades of the writers' Association is wonderful."

"I'm flattered."

"Give in, give in."

On the rostrum, the people on both sides of the Poetry Association complimented each other. They didn't know whether it was true or false. Xiao Jun was very angry.

From that famous prose writer's beginning to now, people on the side of the writers' Association have come up with two questions.

The content of the title is nothing more than what kind of poem to write, what kind of scenery to describe and what kind of feelings to describe.

Xiao Jun also saw that the so-called on-site topic is just a topic that has been set for a long time.

The one who writes the title is the one who has already written the corresponding poem.

At the end of the title, everyone pretends to ponder, and then the author reads out his own poem, and the people around him make comments and compliments. If anyone is interested, they will improvise a poem. If they are not interested, they will turn their eyes to the people brought by Guan.

If anyone writes with ink, OK, it is that this poem will be handed down.

It's a pity that so far, no calligrapher has taken action after two questions and three poems.

Xiao Jun was bored on stage, and the teachers and students were not interested.

Children don't understand, teachers don't understand.

It's better for them to donate more books to write poems.

At this time, the third person on the side of the writers' Association came out, gave a slight smile to the audience, and said in a vibrating voice: "everyone, I'll come up with the third question. This article is a seven character quatrain poem with the theme of the most common thing we use to cultivate and to compare things with people. Friends of the poetry and Painting Association, who would like to sing first

Just like the previous opening remarks, the people in the poetry and Painting Association naturally put on an affectation to think about it, and then say what they can't think of. Please give me your advice.

"Well, since you can't do it, I'll make a fool of myself. I'd like to invite you to comment on the song "chanting tea."

The author read out his own poem, which was just like the scene. Seeing the people on the stage talking about it, they couldn't say a few new words. Finally, someone could not sit down.

"Shen Lingrong, what's your brother doing? Why doesn't he do anything when everyone else writes poetry? "

"Lingrong, let your brother Xiao Jun write a poem. I can't understand other people's words, so I want to hear what he says."

"Rong Rong, is your brother OK? Is he a poet or not? "

Shen Lingrong was surrounded by a group of friends to ask questions. When someone questioned her idol, she quit.

Standing up, he called to the rostrum, "brother Xiao Jun, what are you doing? Write poetry. They didn't mean anything. We were almost asleep. "

The little girl's words suddenly embarrassed everyone on the stage.

Xiao Jun is very helpless, you say this child, blind join in what lively ah. He was forced to stay. Besides, at this moment, people from the writers' Association are still making a topic. People have invited him to the writers' Association. It's hard to deny his own face.

He scratched his head awkwardly. He raised his hand as a sign to Shen Lingrong to be calm. But before he did it, he suddenly heard someone talking from the Poetry Association.

"Ha ha, friends of the Writers Association, it seems that your song" chanting tea "is not very popular among the people in the mountains. Well, that's right. People in the mountains can't even eat. They don't have time to drink tea. You might as well learn from that guy full of bird excrement and write poems with such things as pigs, oxen, donkeys and sheep. People in the mountains are more comfortable to listen to. You see, I have a point. "

"Ha ha..."

It was Xu Jiamao, the vice president of the poetry and Painting Association.

This guy's words made people around him laugh all the time.

Xiao Jun can't help but frown. He doesn't want to pay attention to him. Unexpectedly, Fang Ming scolds him under the guise of poetry.

"I just heard the girl's words and saw the boy's dress in front of me. I can't help but write a poem impromptu. Let's listen to it."

"Well, president Xu's poems will certainly have a different meaning."

"President, we are all ears."

"Well, listen up, my poem is called chanting donkeys."

Xu Jiamao stepped forward and squinted at Xiao Jun. a poem opened his mouth.

"Wild donkeys in the mountains don't know their teeth. They go into the house and howl. They still talk nonsense and write poems. They end up in stinky bird excrement."

"Poof..."

"Ah, ha ha..."

All of a sudden, the rostrum burst into laughter, and people from the Poetry Association kept clapping and cheering.

All of a sudden, Xiao Jun was very angry.

Well, I didn't say a word just now. As a result, a poem you TM wrote aimed at me.

Old man, I'm married to you!

Xiao Jun was furious and walked towards Xu Jiamao, which scared the people around him.Zhang Zhidong, the only old professor who knew Xiao Jun in the association, quickly grabbed him.

"Xiao Jun, don't be impulsive. It's just a poem. Hitting people is a big problem. "

The next president Chang also stood in front of Xiao Jun, for fear that Xiao Jun would be angry all his life. He turned his head and looked at Xu Jiamao, who was smiling all the time. He said angrily: "president Xu, you are going too far. People come here to compare their literary literacy. How can you swear by poetry? "

"Ah, chairman Chang, satirical poetry is also a kind of literature. I just feel that some people have to be seated in the right place, and I can't help it. The boy said he was a poet. If he could write a poem to satirize something he didn't like. I'll just clap, but I'm not going to fight like he does. "

Xu Jiamao was right, and immediately someone nearby echoed him.

"President Xu is right. We are all literati, competing for literary literacy here. If that boy doesn't have this ability, don't stand on the stage and lose face. "

"Come down, boy. This is not where you should be. Take your donkey and go home to look after the children. "

"Let's go. I've been standing for a long time, but I haven't let a fart out. Don't you blush? "

People from the Poetry Association are speaking more and more harshly.

President Chang has a black face and wants to stand up for Xiao Jun, but he has nothing to do.

Feeling that Xiao Jun was on the verge of breaking out, President Chang quickly turned back and said, "Comrade Xiao Jun, I'm sorry. I've made you suffer this kind of injustice in vain. Mr. Zhang, please take Comrade Xiao Jun down. We don't have the same idea with those people. "

Hearing president Chang's words, old professor Zhang Zhidong is pulling Xiao Jun down.

But Xiao Jun didn't move and gently pressed the old man's hand.

"Professor Zhang, let me go."

"Xiao Jun, don't be impulsive."

"I'm not impulsive. How can I be impulsive. Ha ha... "

Xiao Jun suddenly raised his head and began to laugh strangely, which made everyone startled.

"President Chang, Professor Zhang, I, Xiao Jun, always convince people by virtue. How can I hit people at will. Is it true that a gentleman will beat them with his mouth instead of his hands? I'm afraid I'll dirty my hands. "

"Xiao Jun, you..."

"It's OK. He said he wanted me to write poems and satirize. Well, I'll show him one. "

Gently break free from Professor Kaizhang's hand, Xiao Jun bypasses president Chang and goes directly to Xu Jiamao.

"President Xu, you just said that if I wrote a satirical poem, you would clap for me, right?"

"Yes." Xu Jiamao looked at Xiao Jun, who was full of fire in his eyes, and then added: "I don't applaud any satirical poems. You should also write poems that meet the requirements of the title

"Well, president Xu, I'll write poems according to the requirements just now. But before I write a poem, I ask, "what do you think of my dress?"

"Well?"

Everyone was stunned. Xiao Jun should write poems. How can people evaluate his appearance.

Just now Xu Jiamao wrote poems to scold him. As he was covered with bird droppings, what good words could old Xu say.

"Well, I'm smelly to be a little closer to you! If I look at you, I'm afraid I'll dirty my eyes! "

"Well, then, president Xu, please close your eyes and listen to my poem with your ears. The name of my poem is Yongzhen

Speaking the name of the poem, Xiao Jun steps forward and waves to Shen Lingrong under the stage.

"Rong Rong, listen to your brother Xiao Jun's poetry!

Chant the needle.

A needle is hammered, and a thread is divided

After the first two sentences, he pointed back at Xu Jiamao.

"Eyes grow on the buttocks, only recognize clothes, not people!"

"Poof..."

"Ha ha..."

When the last two lines of Xiao Jun's poem came out, a large amount of laughter burst out under the stage.

We finally understand why Xiao Jun deliberately asked Xu Jiamao what he thought of his dress before. After a long time, he was waiting here.

Eyes on the butt, this No, it's not swearing. It's about needles. Needle chanting? Yes, that's right.

On the rostrum, President Chang's eyes were as big as brass bells, and he couldn't believe his ears.

Next to Professor Zhang is holding the forehead wry smile.

Alas, how can you forget Xiao Jun's ability? This boy is the kind of genius who can find out the Countermeasures on the spot according to his own situation. I was worried just now. I should worry about the people from the poetry and Painting Association.

On the other hand, in the poetry and Painting Association, everyone's expression changed with the previous performance. No one thought that Xiao Jun actually wrote a satirical poem and made the swearing so straightforward.

Not wait for them to attack, Xiao Jun directly came to a more irritating words.

"Well, president Xu. Clap. You can't even hear a satire, can you? I feel that what I have said is very clear. Applause“……”

"President Xu, why don't you speak? Didn't you hear me? I'll read it to you again. My eyes are on my buttocks. I only know clothes but not people! Come on, clap

With these words, Xiao Juntian clapped his hands shamelessly.

Clap two small hands together with the excitement of the earthquake.

The children next to them are learning from each other. Many of them who are about to fall asleep don't know what happened. When they hear the applause, they quickly open their eyes and clap their hands.

As a result

There was thunderous applause and silence on the stage.

In this strange atmosphere, a calligrapher standing at a desk suddenly picked up a pen.

"Mr. Guan, my colleagues, this song" Yong Zhen "is ironic and pungent. It's my favorite style. I wrote this poem! "