PERMISSIONS: To view the blog, post on it, and comment on posts, you must be invited. I will send you an email invitation to join the blog, and then you must follow the instructions to join up and begin posting. You can't join the blog without first creating a Google account.

POSTING: Post your poems by clicking "New Post" at the top right of the page. Paste your poem into the window.

LABELING: Then label the post with the assignment name (i.e., "confessional poem," "sonnet," etc.), your name (i.e., "Tony Barnstone," etc.), and the week (i.e., "week one," "week two," but not "week 1"--spell out your numbers). If you post a poem in week two that is due in week three, label it "week three." When you begin to type in a label, the program will fill it in for you, so your post will be labeled with the rest of the poems in the same category.

COMMENTING: Afterwards, you can "comment" on the posts of your classmates. Post "group one" and "group two" one-page critical responses as "comments" on the posted poems, but also print out copies for me and for the poet and give them to us in class.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Sweetheart

I pull my knees in close to my body
Remembering how you once use to feel.
Smell of vanilla coke, burning my nose,
You were here last night I want to believe.

The white sheets pulled tightly around the bed.
A piece of your hair lies on the corner,
Obsessed, gently I put it to my lips,
I suck it till I taste your spearmint smile.

Then the familiar feel, of a cold glass
Bottle, washing you down into the past.
You always pinched my ass before we ate
Breakfast down stairs with toast and black coffee.

I take my coffee like my women, straight!
You loved that joke your nose would crinkle up,
That one time OJ came running out too.
Falling on the floor, kitty licked it up.

Tiger Lilly, grey fur all so shaggy,
Your freckles danced and blurred across your face.
My hands longing to love your waist again,
Or feel your sweetened Splenda coated tongue.

I suck on sugar packets to remember,
The days we spent sun bathing in the front
Yard, naked, the neighbors left us alone.
Those scandalous summer Sundays, no God.

A piece of your hair tastes a great story,
I'll forget by the end of the night.

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