I have to write a shit load of poetry by Tuesday. I wanted to set aside a day to actually write some of that, over coffee, like a date, with myself. So ennui. The new Cartel downtown did just open.
So this poetry is for a class of course. One that I like despite realizing I am totally not a poet. Which is ok. I think I'll always remember this class though, not because I found out that my work sounds like the end of an NPR blurb, I took that as an unintended compliment. Not because everyone in there seemed pretty cool, and they were. No, I'll remember this class like we all remember those dreams we had as kids, where we were at school in our underwear (in mine they often gave me the power to hover over the basket ball court).