The month of November is looking a little sparse, in terms of posts. Figured I'd just stop by and ramble on a bit. This has been one of those crazy periods where everything seems to be happening at once (Melissa--I imagine you could say the same!).
I saw much of the extended family this week, although I often wonder why it takes a funeral to get everyone together. My grandmother (and last remaining grandparent) passed away last week at the age of 89. She was a devout Irish-Catholic woman who raised six sons and loved musicals. In true Irish fashion (when it comes to saying goodbye in style) My uncles sang the theme song to OKLAHOMA at her gravesite. Riotous. She will be missed.
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Am also muddling through marathon-length meetings, caring for an increasingly aging dog, and what often feels like both domestic and professional chaos.
Plans for grad school remain on the backburner, for now.
I think I'd just like to let life continue to surprise me, for a bit. (So long as at least some of the unexpectedness is good stuff! Is that asking for too much? I think not!)
I have managed to do a bit of reading, as well. I've just finished The Bell Jar, which has left me feeling a bit disaffected and Plath-y.
I also finished Frances Driscoll's amazing book, The Rape Poems. I found it to be both fierce and beautiful. If you pick it up and begin to read, you simply will not be able to set it down until you've read the whole thing.
I've done a little writing, too. I'd love to post something, but I tend to be hesitant about posting my work to the blog, in case I'd like to send it out somewhere that might take offense or consider it to be "previously published." So instead, I thought I'd post a little cento that combines the lines of a few of my recent poems.
Playing with words is so much fun.
Cento for the sword daughter
She must weigh every footstep
in a drop of hail,
her witchskin green beneath
canvas spattered with bees: tell
that siren--she's
denouement. A train in low light.
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