June 14th, 2007


poetry like potty training

Okay, I've told this story plenty, so I'm sticking it behind a cut. It's about this poet Kendra, who was a visiting prof at my school (and the cousin of one of the writers). She was my thesis advisor, and my thesis was poems---which felt like kind of a cop-out, compared to extended criticism or taking the comprehensive exams, but if you had a certain grade point you had all three options (vs. just the last), and how couldn't I cash that one in. I'm not saying I wasn't into writing the poems. I was. But it did feel a little like a cop-out.

Now Kendra, in the classroom, used to frustrate some of us, the way she was encouraging to everyone about everything. Collapse )