Put a Poem in Your Pocket Day

It is Elaine's 21st birthday in two hours on Pacific time, but it already has been for 1 hour in Indiana and 6 hours in London. I'm not sure what the difference is in Florence.

It is also Put a Poem in Your Pocket Day in the same amounts of times.

Here are my Top 10 Poems of the Year.
They were not all written this year.
In fact, maybe none of them were.

Who knows?

1. Noon by Louise Gluck.
-Poems for PAPIYPD should be short and this one is not. Dorothy got the book for me, and before I told anyone I was in love, I told this poem I was.

2. Things Shouldn't Be So Hard by Kay Ryan
-Cynthia and I saw her read this in the Morrison Reading Room, which is very lucky.

3. Peace by C. K. Williams
- I used this for an assignment in GWS101: Doing Feminist Research. Not very well. The idea was to build an archive for peace the way Sara Ahmed does for happiness in The Promise of Happiness. I also talked about Jersey Shore.

4. Poem about My Rights by June Jordan
-is a very important poem by a Berkeley lady we love very much.

5. The Poet's Occasional Alternative by Grace Paley
-About a pie.

Still No Time to Blog

But I want you all to know that just because I've decided I don't have time to participate in the challenge this week, does not mean that I think I'm busier than you or that my time is more important than yours.

Sometimes I wish I had some sisterwives. Usually not.

Four Hours

...is for many college students a reasonable or at least typical amount of sleep. I am not among their ranks. The good news is that there's been an unclaimed canteen with 1 shot of tequila in it on top of our refrigerator for several months. It belongs to no one in this house. If it is yours, don't fret! I have transferred its contents to a Tupperware in the freezer so I can use it to carry coffee around with me. I think this is reasonable since it belongs to no one in my house and since I don't have a canteen or thermos of my own. And since I got five hours of sleep! Four! It was four! Oh man, I am really tired.

I don't have my own canteen or thermos because, as my high school drama director used to say when I was dutifully stage managing and asked for a copy of the floor plan, "No, you'll lose it."

I mean that's probably true. But Jeez Louise. I was still a good person. At that point.

Falling Down on the Proverbial Job

Everybody (my latest gender-neutral group address of choice): I promise to blog tomorrow! I am falling down on the Image Challenge, and for this I apologize. I am tryna write a paper that is due on Tuesday. It is not going well. I am listening to a fratmusic.com playlist called "Drunk Girl Anthems" and right now it's playing Dynamite, making me miss Shef.

P.S. GUH! I think Adrien Brody is so cute! I wanna watch Darjeeling Limited, but I can't because I have to write my paper!

The Poems

While dates vary state-to-state, our community recognizes this Thursday, April 14 as the 2011 Put a Poem in Your Pocket day.

In high school I brought a bag of poems to school ever PaPiYPd and distributed them to whoever wanted one. This is probably the coolest thing I have ever done. It's hard to print pages of poetry in college, so last year I distributed them to some people via facebook. I guess I will do it again; it takes a long time but it's very enjoyable, and besides, I don't have very many traditions.

One thing I wish I did was write poetry instead of just read it. I did this very frequently as a middle schooler but now I don't usually think of it. Hmm! Something I just remembered is that Rider Strong, who played Shawn on Boy Meets World, reportedly wrote poetry. I know this because around the time I was writing poetry, I was also videotaping Nick at Nite's eleven p.m. Boy Meets World screenings to watch the next afternoon and spending a lot of time on Boy Meets World fan sites. I am not sure I have ever been a "fan" of anything as much as Boy Meets World, which I have not seen 1 minute of in about five years. It's never on! Anyway, Rider Strong (if that really is your name), a google search for your poetry reveals this gem:

(it should be noted that in the time lapse between my typing the above colon and concluding my extensive search for Rider Strong poetry, a lot of things could have been accomplished. Anyway:)

Capitol Reef
When he came to the dense selection of nothing
He was counting on lucidity
An etching that would rise up from the drama of horizons
Like a call to arms from this urn of ancient oceans
But the silence had made the music
he had heard while driving there
resound like plastic drums within his skull
And the packed and jagged thoughts
He had so carefully prepared
Were just packed and jagged
As he sweated of the cliff with a journey for a journey
Looking at his feet, he knew at once the redbrown of redbrown dust
Could be nothing more than redbrown dust
And looking up, The rocks were dangerous in their density
How much did his eyes project
Before the sunlight filled them up-
Before his desperation, once affronted with the setting (as it arched in every way, arched to slip behind the bent horizon) overflowed?
Tears to reconcile the desert
He cried
As witness
When the landscape overrode (crushed and crackled from inside) the glass of his snow globe;
Left him murdering his daughter for the winds



....Well, he was probably trying his best. I mean what have I ever done that was so great? Get Geared up for 'Pocket Day Twenty-Eleven! And if you have a good one, throw it up right here!

Being Alone

I get the sense that I enjoy it more than many people. That being said, my own company is reliably tumultuous.

Indiana Jones

Some disappointing facts about Indiana Jones:

1. He is not from Indiana
2. He does not really have anything to do with Indiana
3. His approach to arc raiding is decidedly colonial.

Watching Raiders Of with Tara tonight, I had some pretty strong memories of my last trip to Disney Land circa 1996. When GoddessMom asked if I wanted to ride the Indiana Jones ride, I thought, how special! A ride built just for Indiana!

I also remember Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, which prompted an attempt on the part of my
father to read The Wind and the Willows out loud to me, but it was too boring.

I'd go back if I had a little kid with me but not otherwise.





P.S. Part of the California readership reports being "bored" of pictures of Patrick and Adrian. Well, there you have it.