This weekend I'm reading and thinking about Dorothy Allison's story "River of Names," which I'd never read before, for my intro CW classes. Looking forward to our discussions. Also reading the first batch of applications for the June Seminar. And (and!) I received the first set of proofs for West Branch 60, our 30th anniversary issue. Everything's due on Monday. It's a heavy reading weekend. I think I'll go to the office for part of the day.
* * * * *
It finally got cold here. My office window rattles. We've had snow flurries, but nothing's really stuck yet.
* * * * *
I'm gradually increasing my daily workout. It's going well: I have more energy, fewer headaches, and a heightened--what to call it?--clarity. My black jeans fit! And I've lost six pounds so far.
* * * * *
Continuing my practice of reading a poem each day in class, I started off with one of my favorites:
The Revolution
Robinson Crusoe breaks a plate on his way out,
and hesitates over the pieces. The ship begins
to sink as he sweeps them up. Sets the table
and stands looking at history for the last time.
Knowing precision will leak from him
however well he learns the weather or vegetation,
and despite the cunning of his hands.
His mind can survive only among the furniture.
Amid the primary colors of the island, he will
become a fine thing, perhaps, but a different one.
: Jack Gilbert, Monolithos (1982)
* * * * *
Hillary Clinton is in. Are we ready for a woman to lead the country? (I know I am.)
* * * * *
[photo: Bucknell at night: Roberts Hall]
