30 Apr 2004

Yesterday, Separate, in the Evening.

Written by sally @ 7:47 am — Section: sally

At last! The last wretched day of National Poetry Month!

This is the last poem you are going to be made to read. And it is good. It’s the only one I can think of in which the speaker pines for a beloved he hasn’t met yet. Although he announces that he has given up waiting for her, and how it is ridiculous because he doesn’t know anything about her (“I don’t even know what songs / would please you”), the last few lines indicate that despite the fact that she hasn’t shown up yet, he still really does have hope. . .

Be gone, National Poetry Month!

25 Apr 2004

The Pepsi Challenge.

Written by sally @ 6:28 am — Section: sally

. . . Pepsi is bubbly and brown while the Pope
is flat and white. Pepsi doesn’t have a big white hat. The Pope
can’t get rid of fender rust. Pepsi is all for premarital sex.
The Pope won’t stain your teeth.


24 Apr 2004

Some Advice.

Written by sally @ 2:39 pm — Section: sally

This little poem’s advice applies to aspiring writers, or just those who want to become more aware of their lives.

Put it all in,
Make use.


23 Apr 2004


Written by sally @ 7:38 am — Section: sally

I turned to the candies
Tiered like bleachers,
And asked what she wanted–
Light in her eyes, a smile
Starting at the corners
Of her mouth.


22 Apr 2004

Some Contrasts about Lying in Bed.

Written by sally @ 8:20 am — Section: sally

I know, I know, y’all are getting sick of National Poetry Month. With only 9 glorious days left, I’m going to have to step it up a notch.

21 Apr 2004

Tunneling Through Blind.

Written by sally @ 7:59 am — Section: sally

I have no personal anecdote to share about this poem, except that in 1993 or so I decided that I would discover the Next Great Poet, and randomly checked out books by people I had never heard of in my quest. Most of the poets needed to remain on the shelves of Willis Library, but occasionally I would find at least one poem I liked. Here is one. It is short.

20 Apr 2004

Five Things I Saw While Visiting the Family Dollar Discount Store On My 15-Minute Afternoon Break a Few Minutes Ago.

Written by sally @ 2:56 pm — Section: sally


I Think I Made You Up Inside My Head.

Written by sally @ 8:17 am — Section: sally

Here is a shout out to my 17-year-old self. Starting in 10th grade, when I was 15, I had a mad crush on a boy I will call Crush. It finally went away and then I had a class with him in college and it started all over again. I even made a pillowcase for my body pillow with Crush’s senior picture ironed on to it. I still sleep with it. He is awfully faded now. Ted, my ex-husband, used to punch Crush in the face and say, “stupid Crush” with his teeth clenched before we went to sleep. Larry Ferrari hates him as well and tosses him on the floor whenever possible. Here is a poem that is good for people like me who have crushes for 15 years without any physical contact or encouragement from the person in question.

19 Apr 2004

Deep Bare Vacuums Between the Stars.

Written by sally @ 11:23 am — Section: sally

I taught this poem my first semester teaching. Well, by “teaching” I mean I “assigned it” and the kids were supposed to “figure it out” “themselves” in a “5-paragraph essay.”

17 Apr 2004

Wherein Obscurely, Times Two.

Written by sally @ 6:47 pm — Section: sally

A study in contrasts for this Saturday evening. One is a poem. One is a song. They have the same name. That is not a coincidence.

16 Apr 2004

Wild Nights!

Written by sally @ 3:48 pm — Section: sally

Since it’s almost the weekend, I thought the poem of the day should be something a little sexy. I know I said that all poems were about doing it, and they are, but all of them aren’t explicitly about doing so. This one is, especially considering the author.

15 Apr 2004


Written by sally @ 8:48 am — Section: sally

It’s time for the poem of the day.

14 Apr 2004

The Happy Little Cripple and Other Favorites.

Written by sally @ 8:44 am — Section: sally

My friend Meg gave me this great book called Very Bad Poetry. It contains very bad poetry with snarky comments by the editors. Each author gets a standard Norton Anthology-esque introduction, with critical highlights from his or her career.

13 Apr 2004

“the poem which I do not write.”

Written by sally @ 1:51 pm — Section: sally

I just wrote a huge entry about the glory of e. e. cummings, which was leading up to a certain poem. Then I couldn’t find the poem. However, there are still 17 more days of National Poetry Month, so worry not! You’ll get that one another day.

The following poem is exceedingly sweet. I recommend that all the boys give this poem to their ladyfriends and claim authorship. No one will know.

12 Apr 2004

Catching Up.

Written by sally @ 6:28 am — Section: sally

Tsk, tsk, tsk. theohreally has fallen behind.

Because I know you are all dying for more poems, I will get those out of the way first.

A poem for Saturday:
I find Edmund Spenser one of the more annoying poets ever to have walked the earth. He purposefully used antiquated spellings in order to sound more poetic. Also, he whined a lot. Here is one that my students and I liked because it highlights these two annoying qualities perfectly. Spenser is put out with his lady friend because she doesn’t pay any attention to him when he wails and cries. Good for her. Here’s Sonnet 54 by my friend and yours, Mister Edmund Spenser.

A poem for Sunday:
Here’s an obvious one. “Easter, 1916” by William Butler Yeats.

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