The Blue Pitcher

that which may be filled and emptied

Month: November, 2013

Old Love

Postcard from Somewhere to Someone

On Teaching in a Room with Windows

On Campus
In the classroom, though it gets so hot
that the chocolate bars we carry in our bags
(but do not share) begin to melt;
and though the air is of the quality
that makes you sleep (but not to dream);
and though I want to yell at passers-by
(in their scarves) on the street below;
and though in the glare of the sun
(which is not coming through) we muddle
through hypotaxis and passivity
(I hardly ever mention gravity);
and though just on the other side
the season’s first snow falls
(albeit sideways and graceless);
and though I threaten to jump
if they do not use proper citation (MLA),
or act decently to one another (IYKWIM),
or attempt to enter the text (LOL),
and by text I do not mean the one pinging
in their pocket but the one I have fallen for,
the one I have so carefully chosen and assigned;
here, we do not open the window
for fear that the sirens might drown us;
if not drown, call, and neck-deep in syntax
and desperate for meaning,
we might cast our pens and follow.

(or how to procrastinate grading)

(see: wikipedia, facebook)