MC's On to Something Again
Etcher, you may be right.
I taught the WS100 at one of the regional
yesterday and had a fine time--
the students seemed quite engaged.
Hmm.
Need to think about that more.
Meanwhile, the Writing Center position
has been finalized and I start next Friday.
Already, the WAC Director (who is also a close friend)
has given me an assignment
to bridge the gap
between main campus and regional.
In high spirits, I replied "No problem."
Aiya.
Also, should mention I was ambushed
Friday by the regional faculty
after the--
since when does SQ think you are interested
in office politics?
Shame on me.
Instead:
That metal sphere--so tight
beneath the water, compact
in its perfection. I rolled it
between my index finger and thumb--
noticed the way other tiny spheres
had gathered on the surface
of my thighs, stomach, and chest,
little air pockets perfect in their reflection.
I poked at each and watched in stillness
their rise to the surface, extinction
or transformation.
4 Comments:
Is this a poem about farting in the bath? English was never my strong suit at uni.
When in doubt, assume it's an acute case of spaja! (some people are just...)
You know the Womens Army Corps Director? Yow!
lovely poem!
ahem!
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