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November 19, 2005
awake in boston, watching dolphins hunt
i've been m.i.a. for a minute. now i'm back. and that's all i have to say about that.
i haven't been able to sleep for the past few days. part of that is end-of-the-semester mess, i'm sure. a larger part is that i'm presenting a paper this afternoon, and i'm kinda hyped about it...but not in a bad way...
actually, 12 hours from now.
i'm just ready to be done with it. i'm ready to get up there and shine in those 15-20 minutes, and then drive home. i've been imagining someone asking me a question that i can't answer. i imagine that i'll be searching for words, trying to sound like i know what i'm talking about. i imagine that i'll say something so profound that the audience will be left speechless. then i'll stand up, grab the mic, and smash it on the ground. instead of imagining folks in their underwear, this fantasy works for me.
i remember this professor from umcp. the course: introduction to literary criticism, and i hated every minute of it. we read heart of darkness...not my favorite, although i did reconsider its merits after i discovered that apocalypse now, a definite favorite, was based on the work. this professor represented the canon. but not the new canon with its attempts to recognize and represent the works of silenced and erased others. not this guy. he was the old-school, all white, all male canon. i didn't care for him, and i'm sure that i didn't move him, either. my nightmare is that he'll be in the crowd, waiting to ask me some crazy, multi-layered question, waiting for me to sit there in silence. i can handle him, though. i can always handle "him."
this is my first time in boston. nice city. haven't had much time to see much of the sites. i can see the prudential tower from my hotel window. and i can hear people hollerin on the street. at this very moment, someone is screaming. sirens are racing down the street. car horns are blaring. keep in mind it's 2:07 am...
dolphins can swim in inches of water in pursuit of their prey. i miss the water.
poem for the day
"Women"
Alice Walker
They were women then
My mama's generation
Husky of voice-Stout of
Step
With fists as well as
Hands
How they battered down
Doors
And ironed
Starched white
Shirts
How they led
Armies
Headragged Generals
Across mined
Fields
Booby-trapped
Kitchens
To discover books
Desks
A place for us
How they knew what we
Must know
Without knowing a page
Of it
Themselves.
Posted by emnorris at 06:41 AM | Comments (0)