lately i’ve been listening to the rap/hip hop mix cd that i requestesd for Michelle to make me, specifically for driving. i’ve been listening to it a whole lot, but not when i’ve been driving. which is kind of funny. there’s something about doing homework/hanging out/getting dressed in my room while singing along with n.w.a and vanilla ice (both on the same cd. how awesome) that i find humorous.
speaking of straight outta compton,
Every House Backs on a Seawall by Anne Compton
We stand a ways off when grief is in the house.
Our forefeit, a figure behind the glass, dully clad.
We’re watchers from the street, unable to cross over,
claim the loss. The mind has fences it erects, hedges.
Houseguests, it’d rather not admit. It’s hired a realtor.
The lot, it says is upkeep I’ve no knack for.
There’s ways I’m handy, ways I’m not. I’m best
at borders, definitions, that sort of thing. Declensions.
Interiors – where cupboards stand open – are my aversion.
Such clutter. As if the woman there had all her life,
poor soul, got up a store of souvenirs. She’s in there now,
forehead full of shadows, shifting this and that overboard.
I’ve half a mind times like this to plunge the heart in after.
I wrote a take home mid-term exam on this poem last night to hand in this morning. i kind of like that poem and i do like poetry a lot. however i find writing papers on poetry to be kind of difficult.