TEACHING THE UNPOETIC HEART

Next week I begin my poetry unit

New students –  new approach

But what?

Only a few will admit

casual hook-ups with the art-form

Will my desire be enough

for those hearts who fail
to see the ‘blues’ in a Stormy Monday?

Do I want them to see me anguished & pounding

words into order

solidifying my life in

confessional meter?

Do I let them in on my secret

crazy spinning tie-dye history?

A history I have yet to mourn

Do I say my poetry

is simply my ‘other’ novel

or desire

repurposed?

Do I want them to hear my

cursing the last tea bag on this

cold March morning and the tiny

hole that allows Earl Grey to escape

into my oversized mug

 Warming my cold hands

this last cup – confirming

a short unit