This weekend's stormy weather has pushed us into that week where students balk. They've hit the reality of the university classroom, and reading for English class appears to be the first to go, in deference to studying for biology, math, French. My carrots seem little more motivation than my sticks, and I sense I need more tap-dancing and juggling moves, perhaps a decent stand-up routine, to keep their attention. It's all rather exhausting, although admittedly not without its surprising good moments.
All of which is to say, I got nothing! But I didn't want to say that, and not just because it's so ungrammatical. I just don't care to let you down.
And recently, going through my last year or two of Moleskines, I came across this little poem I wrote last year. I almost never write poetry, but this one just plucked my pen out of my purse and forced its way onto my page. I'll transcribe it here for you, shall I, and then we can all get on with our next move of the day. . . .