Category Archives: college

“My Life as a Minister” (wedding poem) (mine).

My Life as a Minister

(for Kathryn & Andy)


To say “You may now kiss the bride”

is a treasure far beyond

most treasures I’ve known.

A treasure of love (my bests,


my only kind of treasures),

a treasure built of words (my tools),

a treasure said in public

in the presence of a trove


of dearest friends—

a treasure known by all, the words

learned early on, the script, that scripture,

holy words of matrimony, most of which


I banished from the ceremony. But not

those words, and not the kiss

which with light within me

I gave permission for.


You may now and you may always

and may you for all the days

kiss and kiss and kiss

the bride.




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The past month or so in photographs.


This is one of the farms that will not be our home.


This was at the farmers’ market in Montpelier, when Ellie was visiting, and we met up with Kenzie, who is also a Suzie’s Farm Person, and she had those long fabulous dreadlocks.

ellie scott misha in a crown

This was when Ellie and Scott and Josh were staying over. I made Misha wear my happy wreath because he was happy, too. And we drank that whole bottle of bourbon. And life was sweet and Scott jumped in the pond and Josh ended up getting a free Suzie’s Farm hat.


This is my favorite photo of my friend Andrew, because the sun is all up in his face.

IMG_0122Those ladies? Oh those are my ladies.


These are some bodacious poppies and some pretty Unidentified Other Flowers that grow beneath the grapes in front of our house.


This is another farm which we won’t live on. But boy, was it pretty.


This is my pen pal, Shannon. She’s even better in person than written. Plus, she’s married! Also, a poet!


This was the fourth of July. Misha didn’t even mean to wear red white and blue and we had sausages for dinner.


This is Misha with flowering mullein on Cape Cod. He really loves that plant. And in this photograph, he even matches it!


This is my family in the early 90s. I don’t think I’ll ever be as baller as I was that day on Cape Cod, with that stance and that minnow net and that belly-bearing bathing suit. Also: how cute is my sister. Also also: notice how all our bathing suits match!



This was leaving the Cape just today, admiring the font of the Sagamore Bridge, admiring structure.

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Filed under a camel, awesome, called fashion, cape cod, college, country life, east coast, family, friendship, love & marriage, photography, poet-love, shake the baron: THE BAND, so sheepless right now, travel, vermont

Love & friends & verklempt (something in prose).

I don’t think I’m a poet of the atrocities, or even of the victories. I think I’m a poet of the people I love. I’m trying to make sense of how much there is to love in the world. I’m trying to put into words the moment when someone reaches out to touch someone else’s face, but then doesn’t, and then that person never knows that that other person wanted to touch them. And so that touch will never be in the history books. But I might just get it into a poem.


Do you have any famous friends? Friends who people know because of something they did or wrote? I have a couple of great friends in a band and it makes me insanely proud and insanely baffled to know them and to see them progressing in the music world and to know that they are an entity outside of the dudes that I got to know in college. And to think that I knew them in a dorm hallway, with their morning hair and their late night gaits. How I’d leave the coed bathroom when I’d see one of them with their sneakers facing outward in a stall (pooping!). 


I have a lot of friends who really impress me. Not just because of their jobs, but sometimes because of their jobs. I have some friends who were born knowing how to be great friends. A lot of my friends aren’t the same as each other. A couple of my friends are attempting similar back-to-the-land plans as I am, but most of them aren’t. I’m here as a human and as a girl and as a poet and as a farmer-in-training to say: my friends, I love the shit out of you. I know you know it already, maybe because I told you recently in an email or textual exclamation or maybe I sent you something recently or maybe you read a poem here that reminded you of it. Either way, I might as well say it often, because life is short and fast (especially in summer).


So here’s a music video that really impresses me featuring some dudes I know. For some reason this video is making me want to hug people (BAD), probably because I’ve been drinking wine and I live with a man I adore and because it’s summer and there’s quite nearly enough sunlight to provide for all the words I want to write and say each day. Amen.


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Filed under a camel, artiste, awesome, boyz, brunch poem, college, east coast, famous, friendship, halleluyah, manifestOH, musics, new york, shake the baron: THE BAND

New Year’s Eve Brunch Sonnet (#5) (mine).


Max is also a Pisces

He hands me the astrology book while reading my “Lovepoem” out loud

My photograph is on the refrigerator

This is my first time at their apartment and my photograph is on the wall

At midnight a blonde girl lights my sparkler after two minutes of matches

Sam in her black turtleneck with a small cup of water and grooving

Kathryn dancing with her hair

Mallory on the couch getting the scoop

In Andrew’s room the bed is stripped

Max makes coffee and the room is mugged

No taxis in all of Brooklyn, no taxis in all of New York

After 4am I’m not especially human

Math and sleep are both about the numbers

This year, again, is all about the words



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Filed under a camel, boyz, brooklyn, brunch poem, college, east coast, friendship, holidays, new york, poetry alive, shake the baron: THE BAND, some beauty

Off to brunch, New Year’s Eve (song).




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Filed under ain't that the truth, BACON!, brooklyn, college, east coast, friendship, holidays, musics, new york

Poem I’ll recite today (Schuyler).

Today is my last day of classes. Most significantly, today is the last day of the intro to creative writing class I’ve been teaching this semester. I will miss my class; they made me laugh & taught me about the Fibonacci sequence. They worked hard and wrote risky poems. We all have to recite a poem in honor of the last day, and then they will hand in their portfolios, and then I will want to hug them all, but I will not. And I will begin by reciting this, by James Schuyler:


Letter Poem #3


The night is quiet

as a kettle drum

the bullfrog basses

tuning up. After

swimming, after sup-

per, a Tarzan movie,

dishes, a smoke. One

planet and I

wish. No need

of words. Just

you, or rather,

us. The stars tonight

in pale dark space

are clover flowers

in a lawn the expanding

universe in which

we love it is

our home. So many

galaxies and you my

bright particular,

my star, my sun, my

other self, my bet-

ter half, my one



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Filed under california, college, epistolary, i love him, literary, memorized, poet-love, poetics, poetry alive, san diego, sigh, swoon

Tomorrow, tomorrow! I love you, tomorrow!

She’s only a DAY AWAY!

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Filed under a camel, college, family, friendship, photography, san diego

Happy Anniversary Mom & Dad.

He hated boats and her mother

lived on one. She invited him

to go, he went, no horror stories

from that December on the ocean,

at least not ones I’ve heard, the two

of them in t-shirts I now wish

I owned, sleeping under and on

top of polished wood, I imagine

that the fish they ate was very

good, flaking off in chunks to fill

their mouths and bathing suited

stomachs, the swelter of the sky

like a unrelenting aunt, and the noise

of wind rushing through their hair

was the loudest noise their ears

could comprehend


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Poet of today (John Berryman).

The excerpt below is from a poem entitled “In Loving Memory of the Late Author of Dream Songs.” It was written by John Berryman’s good friend, William Meredith. William Meredith taught at Connecticut College for many years, and when he died our school held a memorial for him. I  picked up Richard Wilbur at his house in Connecticut in my 1998 Toyota Camry LXE so that he could read a poem at Meredith’s memorial service. His house was in the beautiful Connecticut countryside, and I was a little early so a woman who I assumed was his caretaker had me wait in the sitting room. It was late autumn. I sat on a very stiff couch and his Siamese cats entered while I waited, upright on the sofa: two of them. They stared into my soul with their four blue eyes. Richard Wilbur was much easier to be around than his cats. We talked about weather and dangerous curves of the highway, and he told me a story that took place in Key West, and he told me another story where the punch line involved some sentence which proved a poet he admired knew Latin even better than he did. His voice was very soft and I did not mention that I wrote poetry, or that I had found poetry relatively recently and now knew I had to study it and  keep writing poems. I stole a line from something he said to me during that car ride and put it in a poem, but I changed the phrase by taking out a word, and I didn’t credit him, though there’s an invisible footnote there that only I can see. I can show you to that poem, it’s in my thesis.  It’s a love poem, but that doesn’t help you much: they all are, especially the ones since the thesis.

Do we wave back now, or what do we do?
You were never reluctant to instruct.
I do what’s in character, I look for things
to praise on the riverbanks and I praise them.
We are all relicts, of some great joy, wearing black,
but this book is full of marvelous songs.
Don’t let us contract your dread recidivism
and start falling from our own iron railings.
Wave from the fat book again, make us wave back.

We are all relicts of some great joy, some of us even newer than relics–some of us perhaps just made.

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Poem for a friend (mine).

samantha hubball you

make even a diet coke

sound like a luxury. i

could eat shitty packaged

cornbread with you on

a ragged subway stair

and still feel sumptuous.

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Filed under ain't that the truth, artiste, college, friendship, photography, saucy