a new poem bit from ms cammy li's blog. cammy, as you know by now, was my gwn mentee/sister who is now in her junior year at the new school & a fab young writer.
feed the red-eyed, cook
a hay fire. For the rabbit
laying, throat slit.
a beard of black frost;
I static cling on your skin,
pressed on like clay goo.
i taught flannery o'connor's 'a good man is hard to find' today in my 102. i do love the story & talking about southern gotic/grosteque to a class of student uninituated to southern talk & habit. was joyful.
heading to the y because i eat too much. i cannot help it. i eat i eat i eat. the y does have a sauna that i do so enjoy as well. esp when it's so frigid out & about.
in other news: this year is like no other. it's just now dec & there's too much christmas kitsch already for my tastes. i dont enjoy christmas music, nor much of the decor, sans the tree--i love the tree--real trees, not fake-ity fake ones.
i think the reason i dont like most of it is cause mama made me take piano (well, i did want to for awhile but it wore off too fast & i had gotten a nice piano for a gift & had to keep going & going & going...)--& every christmas it was nonstop up on the rooftop / click / click / click, & silent nite, & little town of bethlehem & all that goodness that can drive a kid crazy as a kid & carries through adulthood. you know.