pantoum's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- BAD POETRY HAND A pal told me that she used my term "bad poetry hand" in conversation the other day. I'll explain the term—but, first, some background information: The university where I work hosts a literary festival every year and, a few years ago I was invited to give another reading there and to participate in a poetry panel and workshop. I had a hard time deciding whether or not to participate in the panel though because a local poet whose work I despise was also on it. I had an almost visceral reaction to this poet's work when I first heard him interviewed on NPR and wound up yelling at the radio because his pomposity and blatant unrecognized privilege and just plain bad writing pissed me off. This poet is the son of a mill owner who slummed at Daddy's mill one summer as a teenager, and this experience apparently left him with the impression that he understands the lives of those poor dumb mill workers, all of whom are just so happy to be working at for Daddy. So he wrote an entire collection of poems in the voices of those simpletons. My friends had to listen to me trying to decide whether or not to be on the panel with him and heard me say more than once that I just didn't think I could shake his bad poetry hand and ask exactly I was supposed to do if I found myself into a situation in which I was supposed to do that? I mean, what if he stuck out his bad poetry hand and introduced himself? What was I supposed to do then, huh? (In the end, I actually did manage to avoid shaking his bad poetry hand despite being in his general vicinity for most of the morning, but this took some wrangling.) • I got good news and bad news today and feel like I should be sitting in my office twitching. The good news is that my baby brother got engaged to a wonderful artist. They've lived together for almost seven years already and are so good together and I am so looking forward to celebrating their get hitched. The bad news is that my brother reports that the insane members of my family—my mother and little sister—are being particularly psychotic right now and my six-year-old niece is right there in the middle of it. I may have to drive down to South Carolina and deal with this situation and am just not sure I have enough emotional strength in reserve to do that right now. (This doesn't make my niece any less in need of help though.) I spent forty-five minutes this afternoon talking my little brother down from near hysteria about the situation and guess I'll call my older sister tonight and see if she's aware of what's going on. Don't know if my other brother is even in contact with them right now, since my insane sister often directs her psychosis at his wife. Glittergrrl has been unstable and untreated for some time now, but it sounds like my mother may have slipped back into psychosis too. And this is a very bad thing. I think I need to go stand outside e and pound my forehead into the brick wall for a while. LISTENING TO: ovumture (in Areola minor) by Bitch and Animal 4:32 p.m. - 2005-04-13 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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