I Will Speak to You Only in Pastishe
V-Day is less than a week away. I was completely freaking out this entire week because I thought I was going to have to postpone it... but no, no, we're on and it's happening! : )
So if you'd like to witness the Epic Fall of Katie, you're absolutely welcome to! I will be defending: Thursday, April 7th at 2:30pm in the UTPA library, Schilling Room.
I don't even have a title figured out yet, but I'm hoping that will come to me at the last minute :P
Ok so this weekend I promise to do nothing but prep. I will ask myself random questions about the history of confessional poetry, the life of Anne Sexton (and how she's both my hero and nemesis), about contemporary confessionalstic poets and how they're super cool, about deconstructionist theory, the post-structuralists (my good pals Foucault and Butler), I will then proceed to tell myself everything I know about new formalists (i love and hate you), LANGUAGE poets (i more hate you than love you but i still love you a lot) and how they are and are not me all at the same time - I will speak to you only in pastishe - deconstruct the days until they blur into one - swim in the inbetween, that space between neurons that feels sexy and right like a red dress, one size too small and very very cheap - I will then proceed to stick my head in the oven, reciting Lady Lazarus until my lips bake blue... tear it all down, tear it all down, and watch her rise from the ashes I'll watch it all happen through the mirror, pressing the flesh of my fingertips against the cold glass and then I will read my sexy poems and convince myself that somehow, somehow, it all goes together. :-)
I am going to be ok. On a lighter note, I read poems last night at Festiba. It was a wonderful experience, like coming full circle. You see, back in 2007, when I was finishing my undergrad here, I read at Festiba with the lovely memoirist Michelle Otero. She very much inspired me to keep writing, to keep going, and I did. And then, last night, I read with her again. She was visiting for Festiba, and again, right before I graduate. I regret that I didn't get to speak with her, as the reading was going late and I had to head home to a very hungry bruno and a bed full of hungry cats. But I'm coming full circle. The funny thing about circles is that they're infinate. So here I go again . What's next? Bring it on, bitches! B-)
So if you'd like to witness the Epic Fall of Katie, you're absolutely welcome to! I will be defending: Thursday, April 7th at 2:30pm in the UTPA library, Schilling Room.
I don't even have a title figured out yet, but I'm hoping that will come to me at the last minute :P
Ok so this weekend I promise to do nothing but prep. I will ask myself random questions about the history of confessional poetry, the life of Anne Sexton (and how she's both my hero and nemesis), about contemporary confessionalstic poets and how they're super cool, about deconstructionist theory, the post-structuralists (my good pals Foucault and Butler), I will then proceed to tell myself everything I know about new formalists (i love and hate you), LANGUAGE poets (i more hate you than love you but i still love you a lot) and how they are and are not me all at the same time - I will speak to you only in pastishe - deconstruct the days until they blur into one - swim in the inbetween, that space between neurons that feels sexy and right like a red dress, one size too small and very very cheap - I will then proceed to stick my head in the oven, reciting Lady Lazarus until my lips bake blue... tear it all down, tear it all down, and watch her rise from the ashes I'll watch it all happen through the mirror, pressing the flesh of my fingertips against the cold glass and then I will read my sexy poems and convince myself that somehow, somehow, it all goes together. :-)
I am going to be ok. On a lighter note, I read poems last night at Festiba. It was a wonderful experience, like coming full circle. You see, back in 2007, when I was finishing my undergrad here, I read at Festiba with the lovely memoirist Michelle Otero. She very much inspired me to keep writing, to keep going, and I did. And then, last night, I read with her again. She was visiting for Festiba, and again, right before I graduate. I regret that I didn't get to speak with her, as the reading was going late and I had to head home to a very hungry bruno and a bed full of hungry cats. But I'm coming full circle. The funny thing about circles is that they're infinate. So here I go again . What's next? Bring it on, bitches! B-)
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