the smell of new books drifts down the stairwell
ink and fresh paper, bitter and sweet together
i'm weak to the joy of it
faltering i fumble with piles of tests and rubrics
below thundering footsteps and loud laughter
in my classroom i sit silently
smiling and sad
saying
farewell
Write me a song, write me a line, write me a word or two at least
just tell me what you are thinking
please
please
please
i beg not a friend nor a love nor a foe
just me and i have no idea what i'm thinking
personify the brain
pry it out and set it on a table and find out what's wrong
plead for answers or explanations or even excuses
brain broke
don't work
not a joke
If I am teaching creative writing
Perhaps I should write
And even try to be creative about it.
Perhaps.
I don't want to be That Professor/Teacher who makes students read/study their (the teacher's) own work....but then even if I write, I'm under no obligation to share this with them, am I. So maybe this would just be a good thing to do, to get me back in the zone.
I mean I don't know that I ever did anything particularly....good? But I like some of what I wrote, so I guess that's good enough.
Good enough to post a thing or two here, anyway.
Side note: this blog is 11 years old. I missed the 10 year anniversary. How wild is that?....How old am I?????
