…was unremarkable, at least in my personal sphere. I accomplished very little. I woke up late, meditated, scrambled an egg, walked the dogs, listened to a couple of albums, The Last Dinner Party and Father John Misty, respectively, culled through some Project MA demos for the next album, texted with my musical partner from thatContinue reading “The Twenty-first Day of 2025…”
Category Archives: Teaching
On the Fifth Day of 2025. . .
. . .I had a nightmare of sorts in the duration of sleep between 7:30 and 9 AM. It was one of those deals where you wake up too early, say, 6, and lie awake hoping to sleep again for something like an hour and a half, and then suddenly you’re out, dreaming these super-realisticContinue reading “On the Fifth Day of 2025. . .”
#540: Masturbation Is Not A Thing
Here’s a poem I drafted quite a while ago, I think, while I was still teaching, that I was too hesitant about publishing, not necessarily because of the subject matter, but because this classroom inspired story was too recent, too close, and I might have been gun shy as the result of an earlier experienceContinue reading “#540: Masturbation Is Not A Thing”
On the Sixth Day of 2024: The Creative Impulse, or What the Hell Am I Doing?
I must say that the sixth day of 2024 has been a rough one. I slept in a little bit longer than I usually do, then, diverging from my usual practice of hitting the cushion before doing anything electronically, other than calling up my meditation timer, I read a text message. Needless to say, myContinue reading “On the Sixth Day of 2024: The Creative Impulse, or What the Hell Am I Doing?”
#460: There was in that crazy business . . .
Here’s the third sonnet in a trilogy, the result of a sudden sonnetplosion about my 32 years as a high school English teacher, 32 years in the same school. The second sonnet in this series pretended to be about things I’d miss about the profession, but turned out to be kind of the opposite thing.Continue reading “#460: There was in that crazy business . . .”
#459: However, there are things I truly miss . . .
Here’s the second poem in today’s sonnet trilogy. (II) However, there are things I truly miss.Not the rat race of it, the perpetualFrantic pace, the bureaucratic bullshit,Pendulum swing of best schoolhouse practice; Not the bells of it, slaving to schedules, clocks,And calendars, the battle between plansAnd grades, always decisions about whatTo neglect out of pure necessity; NotContinue reading “#459: However, there are things I truly miss . . .”
#458: It’s been ten months since I stood in front . . .
I found, every April, as a NaPoWriMo participant, that it was impossible in those 30 days not to write about teaching. In any kind of forced creativity experience, by necessity one writes about whatever presents itself in experience and thought. When I was working, teaching occupied a huge portion of my brain–something on the orderContinue reading “#458: It’s been ten months since I stood in front . . .”
Who’s Counting? One Last One More
One for the road. Last tango. One tin soldier. Last one out. One trick pony. This final one is especially fun because the word “one” can be an adjective to describe how many tricks the pony can do. This pony can only do one trick. Or, the word “trick” can be an adjective to describeContinue reading “Who’s Counting? One Last One More”
Who’s Counting? Another One
Once more with feeling. Do that to me one more time. Once over. Once bitten. Last time around. Last dance. That Morrissey lyric: “This is the last song I will ever sing. No, I’ve changed my mind again. Goodnight, and thank you.” I’m not changing my mind. It’s too late for that noise. Babe, I’mContinue reading “Who’s Counting? Another One”
Who’s Counting? One
June 18, 2022 Looking out for number one. It takes one to know one. One loves one’s BBC. A Room of One’s Own. One step at a time. One giant step. One step ahead. All in one breath. If it’s not one thing it’s another one thing. One thing leads to another. It’s all one,Continue reading “Who’s Counting? One”
michael jarmer 