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contemporary horseshit
"the self in language poetry".
what a godawful way to spend a monday evening.
i'm taking contemporary poetry and poetics because i felt that as a poet, it would be good to get a sense of what is being done in the field today, and i have come to the conclusion that i really have no use at all for a great deal of it.
which makes me wonder if i have a future in it at all, or if i even want to.
scratch that, i know i want to. but if this is mass market, i'm in trouble.
language poetry, feh.
speaking of feh, i visited the gynocologist, well, nurse practitioner (imagine that said as snarkily as possible) today, and reaffirmed what a violation the whole thing is. it is humiliating to have to ask a question about whether the pill might have something to do with your recent weight gain, and have her respond without words, by shaking her head condescendingly, and making feeding gestures from hand to mouth with a tsk tsk noise, as if you were caught with your face buried in a pig trough, and then shortly afterwards to have your knees bent up, while she shoves a metal speculum up into you, as you are at your most vulnerable, the paper sheet ripping under your bare back peeking through the gown falling off of you as if to state there is no safety here, and then she, fingers against your uterus, finally deigns to say, "don't try to blame the pill."
on the other hand, m. (one of my professors who i have a blazing crush on)
offered to let me drive her car to practice on,
and that was very nice.
she's one of those crushes that has absolutely nothing to do with the physical
but is magnetically appealing, and is also infernally smart.
and queer. but definitely NOT interested, which is good, i suppose, since all i really want to do with her
is kidnap her, sit her down in a coffee shop and make her talk to me for hours.
went to a talk to today on The Faerie Queene, (skipped meditation to do it, but figured it was good for my thesis.)
It was fairly interesting, but brought it home to me yet again, how much reading i have left to do in the areas of literary theory, and i really need to read Foucault as well.
what a godawful way to spend a monday evening.
i'm taking contemporary poetry and poetics because i felt that as a poet, it would be good to get a sense of what is being done in the field today, and i have come to the conclusion that i really have no use at all for a great deal of it.
which makes me wonder if i have a future in it at all, or if i even want to.
scratch that, i know i want to. but if this is mass market, i'm in trouble.
language poetry, feh.
speaking of feh, i visited the gynocologist, well, nurse practitioner (imagine that said as snarkily as possible) today, and reaffirmed what a violation the whole thing is. it is humiliating to have to ask a question about whether the pill might have something to do with your recent weight gain, and have her respond without words, by shaking her head condescendingly, and making feeding gestures from hand to mouth with a tsk tsk noise, as if you were caught with your face buried in a pig trough, and then shortly afterwards to have your knees bent up, while she shoves a metal speculum up into you, as you are at your most vulnerable, the paper sheet ripping under your bare back peeking through the gown falling off of you as if to state there is no safety here, and then she, fingers against your uterus, finally deigns to say, "don't try to blame the pill."
on the other hand, m. (one of my professors who i have a blazing crush on)
offered to let me drive her car to practice on,
and that was very nice.
she's one of those crushes that has absolutely nothing to do with the physical
but is magnetically appealing, and is also infernally smart.
and queer. but definitely NOT interested, which is good, i suppose, since all i really want to do with her
is kidnap her, sit her down in a coffee shop and make her talk to me for hours.
went to a talk to today on The Faerie Queene, (skipped meditation to do it, but figured it was good for my thesis.)
It was fairly interesting, but brought it home to me yet again, how much reading i have left to do in the areas of literary theory, and i really need to read Foucault as well.
no subject
We need to start a movement to prove that there really is decent poetry out there.. it's just hiding really well.
Re:
Sigh. What should we call our movement?