Hand Writing II

I’d rather eat shorts--an NPR series I’ve been instructed to look up. This was one result of a long walk with Eliza after the poetry slam on Saturday, when I was shivering from the adrenaline letdown and just needed to walk it off. Eliza is a very good person for that. We had a rhythmic, slam-like conversation that was mostly in iambic pentameter.

Seventeenth-century swear words--someone in my workshop group used a modern swear in her poem that was set in the sixteen-hundreds. She was told to search for era-appropriate profanity.

Tertacular--A word that Greenie made up at approximately midnight yesterday. Or, actually, probably today. It means, “amazing in an unsatisfying way.”

Response poem--never got that.

Goose--what I sounded like all today whenever I tried to talk. I finally decided just to stay quiet through all of the morning. Besides, my throat hurt when I said anything containing an “h.”

Therapeutical--a Greenie quote from this morning. Apparently, that’s what Champlain College’s Mac lab is. And this is the girl who can't stand Macs.

"Nice iris." "It’s actually a day lily, but I ate half of it.” My workshop leader and Aedan (I think that’s it--all I remember is that it was spelled rather uniquely), talking about a flower tucked in Aedan’s pale dreadlocks.

Fuck you, Geist. Alright, so I was mad.

Ink poisoning--Something I’d better look up, since I’ve been writing so much on my hand. Oops.