Denise R. Weuve

Ink Damage and Other Permanent Stains

Real Life Knocks the Poet Down

This time tomorrow I will be in faculty meetings. Listening to the plans of the administration. They will say it is school plans, but for me that is not exactly true, as a school plan would theoretically include the input of all the members of the school. I suppose it is impossible to do that, because it would include an open forum for students, parents, teachers, staff, and admin. Still there is a utopian hope of perfection in bureaucracy that is unattainable.

This time tomorrow I will be missing my rather loose schedule that shifted between doing nothing and trying to accomplish everything.

I did do a bit of what I wanted to do this summer. A lot of poetry. Time spent with friends. Navigated through three to find myself all alone, yet again. Though none of them were more than a way to make the nights more bearable, in the end.

So right now I am sitting at my kitchen table, (rarely used for eating) with poems strewn all over. Wondering how many nights I will get to do this. Does it only have to be on breaks? And wondering more than anything how selfish it is to make my writing and me first?

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