Thursday, January 18, 2007
I woke up sick this morning, lying flat out on the bathroom floor, shivering and sweating. Either poetry doesn't agree with me or I have the flu. I apologize if you had any close encounter with me yesterday. I didn't know. On the other hand, if fear of poetry is the culprit it is not really contagious, so in that case you should be okay. To that end, we didn't get to the dreaded timer thing in poetry class, you'll have to wait for Monday for that exercise. But if you'd like another of David's assignments, try this one, the one I'm trying to revise. Write a poem on grief. Include these four words: distance, harsh, drink, heaven. Write the poem in couplets. Make it 20 lines long, 5-14 syllables per line. Set the timer for 20 minutes. Go. Revise a little, but not too much. Endeavor to persevere. Try not to think of killing the white man.