hunting for poems. . .

. . . last night led me to a few boxes I haven't yet unpacked, despite living in my apartment for a year. Anyway, it was quite a revelation, because not only did I save all of my undergrad poetry folders packed with weekly packets of everyone's poems, but apparently I also saved my stuff from intro to Creative Writing. Needless to say, it was quite an eye-opener. And very embarrassing to see my stuff from that class. It was quite painful. But I won't dwell on it. I suppose I am keeping them because you never know when you may get shit-faced and feel the need to read incredibly embarrassing past writing with your friends.

However, the other packets, the poetry ones, I also find intriguing. There is the natural curiosity to see the path my own poetry has traveled, and also how closely I stick to certain images and ideas. But then there is the curiosity of my fellow undergrad classmates. It's no secret that there are some mighty fine poets out there who came from the same workshop a few years ahead of me.

Anyway, what I was really doing in those boxes was searching for poems to excite my students with. The stuff that worked on me back in the day. And I was so happy to find it still does. I have to say for the most part that Rick Jackson has impeccable taste when it comes to poems. A few exceptions. He's a huge Marvin Bell fan, and I couldn't care less about the dead men poems. Talk about beating a dead horse. (Serious pun intended.) He's a bit more strung on Berryman than me - Dreamsongs. And then it occurred to me that what I really have an issue with are the serial poems. But I dug the Book of Orgasms. (But come on! How can you not like those??)

So I suppose I should revisit those poets and figure out what it is that isn't doing it for me. Likely it could be a lack on my part of reading them inaccurately. I am often guilty of that. That is why it can be so hard to read a Tom Robbins novel, but so incredibly satisfying afterwards.

Okay, I am really just procrastinating here. I need to be writing a poem. A better poem than the one I have in front of me that will be submitted if nothing more striking comes along. Blogging as avoidance.