As I’m eating them from my fridge, I’m thinking about all the other “stuff” that has been leftover from last year that I must get to this year–besides all the editing. I’m thinking about the numerous stories I’ve started and want to finish, and the myriad of fresh poems I should continue to cook. Like leftovers, I’m wondering if these pieces of text will eventually rot in the head? Maybe by the time I get to them they will have grown six inches of mold on their words. (This reminds me of the clamato juice at the back of the fridge in the cardboard box–how do you tell when it’s moldy in the box when you can’t see through the box?)

I keep thinking I’ll have time somewhere in the future to do this writing. Maybe my resolution this year should be to make resolutions. (Usually I don’t–they seem confining and then I just want to break them).

On another note, I’ve found Lisa Roberston‘s work very stimulating in the past year, esp. The Weather, but I also came across some Ted Berrigan with links to some sonnets. There’s something about the personal/confessional brashness of Berrigan that intrigues me.

And in searching, I also came across some work by Rachel Blau DuPlessis. I had only read academic essays of hers until recently. I find her work interesting, in a way similar to that of Robertson, although I think I find Roberston’s freshness–unlike leftovers– more appealing to my taste, whatever that is.

5 thoughts on “Leftovers

  1. Don’t knock mold—many fine cheeses wouldn’t exist without it. Besides, isn’t it nice to think your words might cause something to flourish? (Ooh, that felt funny, spelling mould without the “u”). Yes, I don’t often make New Year’s resolutions. However, if I do, I don’t find I want to break them because they don’t last long enough to annoy me. Cheers Tracy.

  2. Mocking not knocking.

    Without the “u” I only sneer when saying the word mold, but with the “u” I turn up a certain level of snootiness, practice my fake accent and say: mouuuuld.


  3. I suppose mold is really a good thing, but for some reason, I keep thinking about taking a swig of the clamato without knowing that it’s full of mold. Yuck!

    I love being able to play with the Canadian versions of words vs. the American. I think most of our children are losing the Canadian spellings of many words as the American appears everywhere.

  4. I admit to not knowing the differences between Canadian and U.S. spellings, although I do recognise Canadian accents when spoken: particularly when the word “out” enters the conversation. The U.S. versions of spellings (and pronunciations) are taking hold here too. Me, I blame McDonalds (they’re responsible for global warming and Bush, too). And don’t worry, Tracy, I didn’t think I was being mocked—but feel free (then I can have some fun replying ;^)).

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