Fall is sneaking up on me. I see small red patches of poison ivy high in the pines, you might wonder why that should signal fall, but it is a shocking sight when the low slanting, and a bit cold, evening light finds those brilliantly colored leaves near the green crown.
I am facing a problem with a longer poem I am working on. Resolution where are you? Notice I avoided the archaic thou, though I was thinking it. I am plugging away at school. There are seven weeks of classes left in this term, and I will have completed one fourth of my MFA program. I have become more acclimated to the strangeness of living in a new environment. The sun is low enough now to show me where south is at noon. But the poem, ahh the poem. What I write is personal history, and for those who know me and that history it might have some interest, but for those who don't, I wonder, how can I get them to care. Maybe if I hire a go-go dancer and she can do her thing in the corner while the lights flicker psychedelically...A talking bear might distract the critic but how could I feed them? Carrots. The answer to every question is Carrots.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
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