POST FOR FEB. 8 and FEB. 10


This is going to be somewhat simple. First of all,
there will be a quiz/test on Monday, covering
Abstract Expressionism. Look below for the germane
pages. The pages that have text accompanying
pics of the paintings are particularly important.
The test will be objective. I know there are a few difficult
questions. There IS one long answer/short essay question.

Bring the Michael Dickman book to class on Feb. 8. I'll
look at a poem or two in it and assign reading from it.
Also, of course, the Abstract Expressionism book, which
we will be using for only about another week and a half.
For Wednesday p. 70 through p. 83.

In American Hybrid read Martha Ronk and Dean Young
and Dara Wier.

Bring your collage books on Wednesday, and any materials--
paint, sand, foil, magazines, ink, text to cut up. Photos printed
out of a computer after googling certain words, photos of
yourself or photos you've taken (printed out on xerox paper
preferably). Newsprint, pieces of cereal boxes, packaging
of any kind, pages torn from books, fabric, etc. We'll work
on these on Wednesday.

Right now you should have hard copy of the three initial poems
(the ones I handed back), the Capps poems I now have (I'll get that
back either this weekend or next at the latest), the two dictionary
poems, and you should have a draft going of the "Good Morning/ Good
Night" poem, and we WILL write in class this next week, despite
the lack of a computer lab. Our next scheduled lab time is Feb. 17.

So, summarizing, you are basically responsible for preparing
for the AE test, and making sure your poems are revised--and as good
as possible. That is, up to date by Monday (I could ask for them
at any given time--always have ONE copy on you and another
copy elsewhere). Check the date for pages due in collage book
below. 12 pages are due quite soon.

NOTE

We will meet in our usual classroom and then go to the
computer lab in room DW1235.

We will "draft" three poems. They will be collected together
with all your poems--so you will have a "booklet," so to speak,
of 8 poems, and I may ask for it on any given day.

Make sure to print clean copies of poems you already
have done (revised a bit if you'd like).

Also, the quiz on Abstract Expressionism will cover the following
pages. Pages 9 through 14. Also, pp 26-27, pp 34-35, 36-37,
38-39, 40-41, 42-43, 46-47, 50-51, 52-53, 54-55, 56-57,
60-61, 66-67, 68-69.

It will be "objective" (True/False)(multiple choice) with
perhaps one or two short essay--or more like a long short answer--
questions.

Do Not Transport Firewood

Eric Duenez


The first thing I want in the morning is a red cup of
gasoline—the color of that child’s toy with the rings and
my nephew always tried to put the yellow one on first
so he gets some sort of hour glass figure with left over
pieces and you can’t have left over pieces in a hour glass
that’s somebody’s minutes (it’s waking up in the bathroom
and the mirror is all steamed but I don’t know how I got
there and someone’s in the shower and she has these Sharpie
marks all over her body like I was about to perform surgery,
but the marks aren’t numbered and I don’t have a knife and
I’m pretty sure I never went to medical school and my face
feels like it’s going to collapse, “Is this who we really are,
inside of these egg shell bodies?” I ask as I turn the water
off and the faucet is that old school rounded off cross type of
handle marked with an H—Holly, her name might be Holly, l
ike the carburetor, but she starts singing and I really hate her
voice and it reminds me that the floor is wet and there is
mildew in between the tile and I really have this compulsion to
brush my teeth but how can I be sure that toothbrush is mine
and it is yellow like the piece my nephew starts with so I rub the
bridge my nose and close my eyes and start counting)—I really
don’t care about the octane. I guess super would be fine or plus,
but for what I use it for just regular unleaded will work. I
pretend that it’s coffee and then spit it out and say, “Goddamn Flo,
this is some terrible fuckin’ coffee,” and then I throw it against
the wall and light a cigarette. Not to be cliché but I like the slow
arc, the high trajectory of my cigarette. They told me to quit
smoking so I have to throw it and it slows down like an hourglass
that has had an ass-load of extra sand shoved in it, forced in it.
The hourglass can’t say no. It’s in no position to make demands.
The fire is small and I piss on it. I mean to say I love my home.
I would piss on it to put the fire out. I would piss on it. I do. But
I still can’t figure out who is in the shower. I mean it would make
a difference if we were hard-boiled, but I feel all soft inside–
maybe with two yolks–and I’m afraid of leaking and if I could
see her face maybe it would make a difference. Maybe I’ve
never met her. Maybe this is her house and not mine. How
embarrassing would that be? Jesus Christ! My soul for a real
cup of coffee, too. And who pitched a tent there? Take it down.
Set up camp somewhere else. This will not be a vacation spot.

ACTION


Pollock in Action.

Hodgkin, who wants to point to the limits of the frame.