March 30: Poetry and Fourth Grade, Psalm 22, Publishing

I don't have much time today to write a lengthier, more thoughtful post.  Last night, I went to see my daughter's chorus spring concert at school.  I had my digital camera.  I had papers to correct, just in case things went long.  Well, the camera's batteries died after one picture, and the lights were turned off for most of the performance.  Despite all that, however, I actually enjoyed the night.  And my daughter was the best thing in the show, of course.

Last night, I submitted a couple of my recent poems (Psalms 14 and 21) to an editor who's putting together an online anthology called 100 Thousand Poets For Change.  It's going to be a collection of political poems.  My good friend and colleague suggested I send my work.  Well, I e-mailed my stuff last night, around 5 p.m., and when I checked my e-mail this morning, I had an acceptance from the editor.  That kind of turn-around is completely unheard of.  So, needless to say, I 've had a very good day.

Tomorrow, I get to go to a luncheon to find out if I've won the award for Employee of the Year from the hospital I work for.  I've already won Employee of the Month, as you may recall.  Each Employee of the Month is considered for Employee of the Year.  I've been practicing my I'm-so-glad-that-dickhead-won-instead-of-me face for several days now.  I think I have it down pat.  Wish me luck tomorrow.  I just hope they're serving some food I can stomach.  And I hope I don't inadvertently throw the cherry tomatoes from my salad at the winner.

Well, I have another poem, inspired by the fact I have to teach my daughter's fourth grade class poetry on Friday.  I'm nervous about it.  I have never taught kids this age before.  I hope they don't have cherry tomatoes in their desks.

Saint Marty (soon to be Saint Employee of the Year) presents his new psalm, for your consideration, and he thanks the Academy.

Psalm 22:  Poetry With Fourth Graders

In a few days, I must feed poetry

To my daughter’s fourth grade class,

Make them hungry for broccoli verbs,

Cabbage nouns, chickpea and carrot image.

I don’t want to embarrass my daughter

In front of classmates, serve up salad

No one will eat.  Calamari Waldorf,

Sashimi Caesar.  I will bring

Chocolate syrup, whipping cream,

Strawberries so sweet and big

Those kids will squirm, jump

Like it’s June, days before summer

Recess.  This, I’ll tell them, is poetry,

This itch for sun, beach, lake,

Time stretching into July, August,

A garden full of mud, bee, zucchini,

Tomatoes red and round and larval.

I’ll teach them to stretch leg,

Arm, neck like watermelon vine,

Feel poetry, fertile and pink,

In the bud of their bodies, ready

To unfold, open in heat, hungry

Root in dirt, tangled limbs, leaves,

Pollen on stamen, pistil on sepal,

Ovary on stigma, wild, wild joy.

I’ll watch my daughter dance, sing, grow

With her friends into full summer bloom.



Red and round and larval