Blogging out in the open: since I’m now officeless I’m spending my last week here working in the English department’s TA offices, which is basically a big open room with semi-cubicle areas, all decorated in beige and brown fabrics. It’s like a furniture time warp in here, circa 1978. Like most new buildings at Stanford the room has motion-sensor lights,…
Looks like I’m gonna miss the Jim Behrle World Tour–I don’t leave for Chicago until the 27th. Have to take a rain check on that Sox game. Bummer. However, if Jim just heads north from Kansas City instead of going back to PA, maybe we can rendezvous in Lincoln, NE.
My goodness–lime tree has been transplanted. Is this the wave of the future?
Although I’m on the verge of moving, every time I go into a bookstore these days I buy an unconscionable number of books, as if hoping that their sheer weight will keep me here.
Trying to write a dissertation abstract, which is a bit like pulling one nail off each hand and then another off each foot and then trying to make another limb with them. Or something.
I don’t usually write about these things, as I prefer to bottle up my emotions inside, going through life as a closed-off shell of a person. A zombie poetics? But it was sad.
Here’s the poem I wrote in the little notebook. Poetry swappers, avert your eyes. Miss Teen Your Name Here She’s walking backward through the plate-glass door Like an unmarked bill or a press-on tongue. That blank sash sounds familiar, taut In wind and calm. Some blonding perp’s Quick-witted halo can’t compete with her Desire for cash and carry, sand-polished for…
I’m writing in this pocket-sized notebook I picked up at Kepler’s yesterday. It’s convenient but it’s doing weird things to my lines–it’s not wide enough for lines of more than a few words so all of my lines have to drop down to a second line, which is really throwing off my rhythm. But I’m thinking maybe this is a…
I’m sitting in front of my computer writing in my notebook. When I finished the piece I was writing I reached up for the keyboard and realized I was trying to save my work.
Yes, Kasey said everything I was trying to say and more, so all I have to say is right on.