Monday, April 30, 2012

Vs Are For Birds Press

Here is my select report on what I did last week/this weekend. Please mark it up with a red pen. Filled with your blood. That kind of red. That kind of blood:

1) I taught Zachary Schomburg's Scary, No Scary to undegrads. They are currently writing their midterm essays about this book & I'm pumped to see what amazing observations they make.

2) I read Levinas and Derrida (on Levinas) for hours. For so long that hours turned into crows & bear claws. Then the crows & bear claws fought each other on a cliff while Levinas & Derrida had a picnic. No one won, everyone fed the ants.

3) I had to look up what "qua" meant because I forgot, and apparently you can't read Levinas or Derrida without seeing this word in every paragraph. I'll show you my qua if you show me yours.

4) Tried to get into a free screening of The Raven. Which meant waiting on line with phd homeboys for an hour while watching girls at Coyote Ugly practice their dance moves in the window where we were stuck waiting.

5) Jeff Mangum concert (it was awesome).

6) Poetry workshop with Lisa Robertson. She makes me swoon.

7) JD's birthday bowling. JD's new camera had just arrived, so maybe my favorite part of the day was just watching her take photos of everything nonstop. Nonstop I say.

8) Lilac thievery. And also hydrangia thievery.

9) Saw The Cabin in the Woods. You should go see this movie. Possibly with whiskey & an arm to grab onto.


Here are 2 of my favorite poems from Scary, No Scary:

YOUR LIMBS WILL BE TORN OFF IN A FARM ACCIDENT

Your limbs
will be torn off
in a farm accident.

Tree limbs
will grow in those places.

You'll cry at night
as your limbs curl a little around your still-soft face,
as your skin toughens.

A hummingbird will begin
to hover near your ear.

Soon you'll be
more tree
than person.

You'll go camping in the woods
and never come back.

**

We talked in class about the trajectory of the stanzas in terms of violence and transformation, the use of the future tense, the "you" form of address, enjambment as torn limbs, and how we can read the ending as "no scary."

**

LOVE IS WHEN A BOAT IS BUILT FROM ALL THE EYELASHES IN THE OCEAN

When the bats
break
from the mouth of
the cave
hold on tight
at my waist.

If I fall
into the ocean
bury what washes up
beneath the mattress
of my first bed.

When our eyelashes fall out
it does not mean we are about to die
it means we are about to be saved.

We should look
directly into the sun.

We should
expect a boat.

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