as you know, i’ve been contemplating the light and romance and poetry mojo. they are three of my obsessions. how they ebb and flow. most recently, how they dwindle. i would be hard-pressed to tell you which absence is most disheartening. but i can say that i’ve lived long enough to know that neither light nor poetry really disappear. romance, however? and love? phftt. i have little evidence that either persists.
with one or two exceptions, i have a long record of sex without emotional connection, including, even, the longest relationship of my life. sex, of course, has its own value. i’m not discounting it. but what i’ve started to ponder is something that comes from my gut: “what things do you accept, allow or tolerate from men that your instincts say are wrong rather than doing the hard thing? do the work!” ok, so that isn’t what my gut said. that’s a near-quote from iyanla: fix my life on OWN (oprah’s channel).
laugh if you want about pop psychology. one day i’ll tell you the story of why oprah means so much to me: i guarantee it’s not what you think. but whether who speaks to you is iyanla or the dalai lama, i don’t judge. it’s a damn pity women (myself included) don’t demand more from men. and vice versa. as a culture, we are way too easy on one another. why are we afraid to insist on more?
i don’t have the answer for that. but i want to have it. in the meantime, what i have is a poem. i don’t know if this is the poem i’m going to workshop tomorrow night, but it’s what i was playing with at lunch today:
[poem removed for editing]
p.s. they’re interviewing the MFA students over at the st. rose english blog. here’s the one featuring yours truly: What We Talk About When We Talk About Writers: An Interview With M.F.A. Student Carolee Sherwood.