The prompt is future, the form is sonnet, and the device is chiasmus.
From a fairly straightforward reordering of words — where A and B are repeated as B and A — a chiasmus can develop into more complex structures: instead of words, phrases. Instead of phrases, ideas or concepts. Chiasmus is effective in poems because it’s a form of repetition — and by now we all now how crucial repetition is for poetry. But the reversal injects the repeated words with freshness, and allows us to play with (and radically change) the meaning of a line.
I’m going to have enough trouble with a sonnet…
(Do it anyway, Charlie.)
Once more, into the breach.
“Jane! Get me off this crazy thing!”
George Jettson cried out, his voice echoing
off the walls of his carefully planned house.
The future was never supposed to be this dangerous, he groused.
It was supposed to be cheery, nothing dangerous.
But this? This…thing…this future was all
sharp edges and dangerous curves.
Nothing cheery about it!
George sighed as he waited, circling, spinning,
He shut his eyes growing dizzy as he spun and circled.
The spinning beginning to drive him mad.
In the distance, he heard a faint voice speaking over and over again,
Danger! Danger! Danger Will Robinson! Danger!
No, the future did not live up to expectations.
This sucked as well. No, I *won’t* be going back and reworking this. I have no idea of where it should go.
I’m so so sorry.
For those of you who plowed through this with me, thank you. For those of you who stumbled upon me on the duration of this course, thank you as well.
Now, go find some bleach.