as tonight provides yrs truly an unprecedented opportunity for semi-semi-pro literary blather in a rock bar context, i thought i’d also hold forth a bit into the e-ether. here’s that poem about the french teach i evoked in this here post from yesterday. it’s called ‘over and over,’ and its the most latent, blatant paul muldoon worshipping i’ve ever let loose with.
over and over (jersey prep-school memory)
over and over i conjure
the professor who never quite
made it, for reasons left unsaid.
he could fill out crosswords in
cinq minutes flat, and never
flinched as we flirted with Beckett,
or the Grateful Dead, or whoever.
he tore our not-quite-ripe minds
to pieces, talking of a Patterson bar
where a sign read: “the beatings
will continue ’til morale increases.”