tastes like wine

Summer

tastes

like wine

so 

pass that old bottle

and 

let the

red sun

cracks the sky

can you dig it.

a portion of one of my poems from my writing poetry class of last nights fame.

Try again- last nights reading any thing but famous, just inspiring and cool.

Got this poem reviewed and thats alright with me.

Getting over the butterflies of pubic inspection and dissection of my work, and learning to write creatively not on my whims but on assignment. Also not that fun. But also a great tool in stretching my abilities. Ever so dormant. 

Cool ride on a hot night

Tell me your name again

Seems like we must have met once before

I hear laughter 

And 

smell Old whiskey

on your breath

seems to me

it is a good night

indeed.

another vignette of writing.

There are these three incredible writers in this class with me. LIke super good. Quietly, subtle and wickedly self aware- good.

There words are like ticks embedded on the paper, damn it i cannot stand my jealousy when i read their work. Effortless grins and nods and inspiration and the where with all to get it all so perfect, neatly broken up lines with the delightful imagery or bloodish colors. 

O i must be green in these classes. Little double majors, lit and creative writing. And i am your super senior squinting at their way and thinking of bad things about them so they will seem less Keats-god like and more just rambling fools who were  just not that cool in high school...so they wrote in their greasy little notebooks and passed lame pictures around that they had scribbled some quasi-pokemon creature on. Closet anime. 

But now they are so ridiculously smart they are so out with their weird fetishes that i can do nothing but be jealous and try to top their work the next wednesday from 6:30-9:50, 4th floor of carlson tower.

it just doesnt happen.

And let us be reminded today is a special because it is 1 month until mike and i are married.

crazy exciting and i felt like this day would never come. 

but like Christmas it has its own day on the calendar so it always makes its way down the line.

Ah how lovely.

How lovely indeed!