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Trying not to get poetic November 9, 2008

Posted by eternalwriter in English, Fall, new life, professional procrastinating.
3 comments

Of course this is a blank page day, with me in it — a Sunday –, desperately trying not to write about the messy mushy stuff inside.

I quit. I will write.

My poetry is always about somewhere else — and it always refers

to another of you

Something I cannot afford

And silence, like ten thousand deleted files the only reward

Not knowing if this is

clodded dirty memory or some kind of

okay, nice and shiny souvenir

Unpublished, yet too public

Never got a hold of it — that — you

You thing, you body, you fleeing creature

And why now, why the void kiss

and all your words about Fall

I have been meaning to tell you to go away

You thing, you, creature,

Go away you almost killed me once (so good, so good)

All this

undeleted happiness

Getting the better of me.

Days of Fall, Falling Days October 16, 2008

Posted by eternalwriter in English, Fall, overflow.
3 comments

Well the leaves are red and yellow and orange, here. 

The cats are getting sleepy, and firewood is being stored in houses in view of the coming winter.

It will, again, be a whirlwind of a month, and I am quite excited not to know how it will turn out. 

Coming this month are a bunch of new things I’ve never tried: participating in a public debate, giving a one-day formative session for professionals,  and serving as an evaluator in a conference. Notwithstanding my four courses per week, of course. Woohoo!

I am holding on to this, to all of this: the Fall, the new stuff, the work overload — because, well, I just know it probably cannot get any better in the kind of job I have. I feel blessed. Lucky.

Each red leaf I pick up from the ground is a sleepless night in strange arms. And the dictionaries and phone books and novels that hold them bear witness to this long, long season spent running around after my shadow.