February 3: Poetry Everywhere, Mondays, "Web" Dip

I have been thinking poetry all day long.  I teach my poetry workshop tonight, and I've been putting together handouts, writing drafts of poems, and finalizing my plans.  Basically, I've been doing everything I love to do.  I would almost sacrifice an organ to get paid well for doing this on a full-time basis.  Not a necessary organ.  Maybe my gall bladder.  I've already given up my appendix.

I love these Mondays where I see occasions for poetry everywhere.  It's not that my life is different in any way today.  I still got up at 4 a.m.  I still worked eight hours at the medical office.  I'm still sitting in my office at the university, dutifully conducting my office hours, and, in a little less than an 50 minutes, I will head across campus to teach my Introduction to Film class.  That's all the same.

It's my attitude that's different today.  I'm looking for poetry, and when I do that, I usually find it.  I was even able to complete a draft of a poem this morning.  It's not a great draft.  More like a really shitty, less-than-first draft.  But I will share it tonight with the members of my poetry workshop.  They need to know:  it's OK to write crap, as poet Natalie Goldberg says in Writing Down the Bones.

I do have a question for the little spider this afternoon:

Will my poetry workshop go well tonight?

And I'm looking up at Charlotte's web in the corner, and it says:

Everyone rejoiced to find that the miracle of the web had been repeated...

Yes, that says it all.


Saint Marty is going to have a miraculous night.

Breathe it in