The secret jungle.

Well, it's no jungle, but it's still a mess. Here are some pictures that make my garden look miraculously well tended.




PS: The same day I posted that cranky poetry gripe I ended up writing a new poem. So there.

PPS: Barn Owl Review starts taking subs at midnight tonight. See details here.

Perhaps there's a future for me in taxidermy...

...because there is certainly no poetry in me.

That makes two of us.

A runaway.

If you are a fan of creepy library photos, then this is the season for you here at The Word Cage. I'm currently working between two offices--English department and Press--for the next five weeks, and will likely be adding to the collection of library snapshots.

Day two of summer class (first session, only session for me this summer) and I don't mind it one bit. It's just like the spring semester is a little longer. Looking forward to July and August, when I won't be teaching or reading manuscripts.

A pair of cardinals nested outside my bedroom window, and the eggs have hatched. The babies aren't noisy or otherwise obnoxious (obviously not human babies--hee hee).

Off to teach in a few here. Trying to figure out what to do, and when.

I am born.

These cupcakes aren't for me. They're for my daughter's birthday, which isn't until June 12th, but I brought treats for her class today since they'll be out of school on her real day. Of course she had to have Cleveland Browns colors for the frosting. We've had an ongoing debate over whether the Steelers fans in her class will be able to consume them. Those are sparkly sprinkles on them, not raindrops, though we all got pelted this morning on the way in to school.

Oh, and I did not make the cupcakes. They are from here.

In other news, it's my birthday. Last year was pretty crazy, but I got a lot of things straightened out. Yesterday I was assigned a Black American Lit class for Fall (kind of ironic, with the recent banning of ethnic studies classes elsewhere) and I am so excited. I love teaching multi-genre classes. Already putting my syllabus together. It was sort of an early birthday present, out of the blue.

My friends are already spoiling me rotten. I am so lucky, and I know it.

No new poems lately. Gotta fix that.

In a semi-enchanted forest filled with poems...

For those who do not live in Akron, here's what the past several days have been like. The steam emanating from the ground is not universal, however. It has been dreary and wet and cold. There's a wee bit of hope for tomorrow, which is my birthday, but I'll take the rain if that's what I get.

For so many years my birthday always ended up being the first day of whatever summer job I happened to land. This never bummed me out, because I was glad to be able to pay the rent, and to stop worrying about paying rent.

I'm very glad I don't have to scramble for summer jobs any more. My summer class begins Monday. I have a few hundred things to do before then.

The thorn, and everything else.

Another dreary day here. I'm working at home and trying to remove lime and rust from various fixtures. Look what happened in the ACME parking lot. Somehow I couldn't find this tragic incident in the local newspaper, but perhaps it has yet to be reported (until now).

Distractions.

Sometimes I think about quirks, and how quirks can be our best attributes and also our worst enemies. For example, right now I am not doing what I am supposed to be doing, and this is perhaps because nobody is around to enforce me, or make me feel guilty. So instead of doing what I'm supposed to do, I am scurrying around looking for things to photograph, listening to the painters downstairs and their death metal, checking my numerous email accounts (one has 666 messages right now, and that's one of the less-full inboxes).

I will blame this all on being pretty much alone in the office right now. I never realized until recently that I absolutely hate being by myself. I always have colleagues or my kids or friends around me, or a combination thereof. I tend to feel the same way about projects. Every day or so I think of something new and awesome, something the world really needs, if only I had the time.

Now there are no further excuses, so I will sign off and do what I'm supposed to do.

Photo above is from a new series I'm working on this summer, where I try to find obscene photos in very innocuous places, like the corner of a ceiling. That is my last new project, for now. I think.

One step beyond.

I'm feeling really happy right now. No reason in particular. Actually, many reasons in particular, and none of them have anything to do with the weather.

Historically I have found Mother's Day to be tense and depressing. Tomorrow might be. But today, well, today was awesome, and I'm just going to run with it.

Not to miss.

[Click to make it bigger]

State of the mess.

My work may not be 100% done, but I can say this for myself: I have a fairly clean office, for once. The situation in here was exacerbated by the aforementioned tenure box of doom, which is now cowering under a bookshelf, topped with some copies of the Writer's Chronicle (they are such an odd size, you know).

When I clean, it's more like a mosh pit than a ballet. This office was an utter trashland until a few hours ago. I have fed the recycling bin. My binder clip basket is full. The student papers from 2007 have been dispatched. I still have 100ish books to re-shelve, but at least you can walk into my office now.

The hall is teeming/seething with comp students picking up their portfolios. I just got a coffee and had to argue with the barista because I did not want it cold; no, I wanted it hot, despite the weather. And thus is the state of my mess as of Wednesday afternoon, though I'm not completely sure it's Wednesday, and have been doubting it all day long.

I will finish everything eventually. Or will I? Because there's always more everything waiting. I'm envious of academics who can chill once the grading is done. I still have to get up at 5:30 every morning, in anticipation of the everything. Later in the summer, after my class is finished and I've read all of the mss, I will attempt to do less of the everything. Maybe I'll be able to sleep until 6, since my kids will be in summer camp.

And then there's the new book I'm writing this summer. A new book of poems.

Anyway. The piece of rust above was calling to me a few days ago. I left it there in case someone else wanted a look.

At home.

Today I'm working on an odious administrative task while simultaneously laundering (albeit with lengthy gaps between cycles) and housecleaning (barely) and ironing (forthcoming). It occurs to me that I have spent more time in my house over the past year than I ever did in years previous. Sometimes I just look around at the house and marvel at the fact that it's mine. I wish the weeds and overgrown-ness belonged to someone else, though. On Friday I took a forsythia down to half its size, and it still seemed leggy. I think the yard will just require regular attention and a bit of obsession. I did clear out a bed in the back that had been so overgrown I almost expected to find dinosaur skeletons. I had many The Secret Garden moments.

My derby horse was Dean's Kitten. It did not win, but it still has the word "kitten" in its name.

I have a little interview over at Fringe.

Grading marathon in the cards for this week. Bring on the gummi worms.