I got my “box” from Antioch yesterday. It has lots of stuff I need to look over for the residency next month. The more I read through it all, the more anxious I get. SO many great writers are affiliated with the univeristy, and I’m truly honored to be included. I’ve been writing lots lately. I wonder how my writing will differ when I have a community to share with. I do promise to stay with my blog. That said, here’s a portion of my latest. I took my Creative Writing class on a field trip to Olvera Street and Union Station in Los Angeles. I stressed to them the role environemnt plays for a writer and gave them relative assignments. It was great to see them so inspired by these two historic landmarks. I was able to get some writing in as well. I sat by the trains for a while and have enough jotted down to begin some sort of “train” poem. That’s still in the works, but here’s a portion of a poem I wrote yesterday.
We called Tommy Jordan T-man
He was so cool;
It made him sound like a black dude.
Because there was nothing cooler
Than a black dude in ‘88,
And Tommy was the frostiest
White boy in the school.
So for that Saturday night
I was feelin’ pretty fresh myself
In the back seat of Tommy’s ride,
Along with Marty. Brian shotgun.
Cherry IROQ bumpin’ through Buena Park
Broadcasting to all traffic on Beach Blvd.
“Beware of Gahr High baseball badasses.”
We took turns freestylin’ creating credibility
Like we knew what
We were doing.
Chillin’ after dark
Crusin’ Buena Park
Heads bob and sway
Listen to what I say…
Windows down and boom boom sound,
No one knew I was 98 pounds of awkwardness. Diffidence.
A pinch-running, sacrifice bunting role player,
And this was the closest to cool and stardom I’d get.