12 May 2009

So, I've been thining about writing a book about... no let me rephrase that - I've been thinking about writing a book chronicling my varied and somewhat unique assemblage of work experiences. This came to me in the shower. Do you remember this?

The first thing that I ever got paid for doing (That seems to be a strange way to put that thought into words. Whatever kind of story you may think this will turn out to be, it probably won't.) was delivering flyers door to door for a local psychic. I admit, it does seem strange that I, as an elementary school boy (probably about 9), went door to door in my poor, black neighborhood, delivering flyers for a palm reader. Even stranger, the more that I think about the situation, is that my mother allowed me to do such a thing, traveling with other neighborhood youths, in the bed of a strange pickup truck. Stranger still, is probably that I seem to remember pleading and begging my mother to allow me to take part in this absurd outing.

08 May 2009

Kick Drum

I'm so tired. This is quite unfinished

There is something in the thick thudding,
Something primitive in the
There is something animal,
Something a hundred million years old
In a hunched over ancestor.
Something before words.
Something before memory.
There is something primitive
In the short arc of two wooden sticks.
There is something violent,
Bloddy-fisted and bare-knuckled.
There is something mathematically complex
In placing each drum just so.

04 May 2009

My First Audiobook

I started to listen to my first audiobook today. It was really odd. I only got the book on cd because I could not find a printed copy for sale or at a library. I couldn't even find the copy that I own[ed?]. It's such a strange experience to be read to by a cd player. I guess, as a teacher, I'm usually doing the readin to my students. Or, when they do read to me, I listening to see how well they read, not how good their story is. Anyway, I'm just not sure if I like it. Similarly, I'm not sure that I don't.