Poetry project

I'm beginning to wrap up my project for my long poem class.

Instead of writing a single long poem (like William Carlos William's Patterson - I couldn't even get through it!), I'm writing a book length story (in shorter poems) that shows the cycles of mania and depression of bi-polar disorder. (Hey, maybe I will make some use of my psych degree) Even crazy, they're still dirty poems with lots of sex. And I try to give the narrator nearly every ailment possible, she may contract smallpox and lose a limb from gangrene next.

Of course I cheat and use some rewrites from the stuff I wrote as an undergrad, but there's no way my professor will ever know.

Other projects in my class: poems based on the creation of earth - from Dante and the bible, the life of Shakespeare's character Desdamona, and the portrayal of social issues using a hamster and his young adult owner.


This is a revision of something I wrote for an assignment during my B.S. It's based off a poem I wrote off of a poem another girl originally wrote. Stacy (the other poet), was a really good writer, but annoyed the hell out of me with her clean-christian-pureness. So I dirtied it up.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Between the Seats

As the boy tugged tirelessly
at the Cross Your Heart clasp
I felt comforted by the label
(I am a good girl)
and his inexperience

I waited, wanting
to rip the bra from my breasts,
fling my nearly-nude body
through the unlocked door,
dance across the car’s hood, screaming
"I am still a virgin!”

Instead, I remain poised, appropriate
for the backseat of an ’87 Escort.

Asleep, my right arm tucked
under my semi- horizontal form,
my neck cramped in a way I knew would ache
for days.

Half-Nekkid Hair

I know, my posts have been week. I'll try harder in the future. I missed another meeting today and finally turned on my online meeting notification. This could be an across the bar initiative - following through.

Wouldn't that be amazing?

What I'm trying to say is: I may not be good, but at least I've become HNT reliable.



Click the hot belly for info about how you can become your own kind of Half-Nekkid reliable.

And I can't get that hour and a half back

It's pretty sad when you're bored to tears during a communication seminar about effective, engaging communications strategies.

How do you feel about ...

small talk?

I used to be very anti-small talk. I still don't agree with it when it comes to close friends and family but I talk about the weather all the time when I go out to smoke. I ask what drinks people are waiting for when they are in line. I make jokes on the phone about the bureaucracy of insurance when I'm on the phone with agents.

The part that is interesting to me is that I now enjoy this type of talk. I don't prefer it, but it often leads to something more substantial, like an opener to say, "I'm friendly."

These are the kinds of mindless topics I think about before 9 a.m. in the morning.

I also thought about how I spend at east $20 a month on Diet Pepsi. I don't drink coffee, but a soda in the morning helps get me going. Every week day I buy at least one soda for $1.10 in the cafeteria or one of $1.30- something at the gas station when I buy cigarettes. (the money I spend on smokes doesn't really bother me - go figure) I could buy two litters, but I would just drink the entire bottle by the end of the day.

Is it justified since it helps get me through the day at work and I need work to pay my bills and buy over-priced concert tickets? Or am I just ruining my teeth and have I just found another item to waste money on?

Again, the things I think about before 9 a.m. I'm only a third through my first Diet Pepsi of the day.

I really am going to blog in real life

But for now, drunk Anna ...

New Years 2006