So last night began the process of packing for my big move. My apartment currently looks like hell thanks to the whole process...I'm pretty sure if this was a public building I'd be breaking fire code laws with boxes blocking the clear path to the only exit. But this kind of chaos is to be expected during the whole packing process. It's crunch time - it seems as though once again I've put things off to the last minute. But I'll get it all done in due time...I've had lots of practice at packing, so I'll be good. I once moved 6 times in 12 months time - and that doesn't count all of my other countless moves. Not to mention packing up all my important possessions in the matter of a couple hours for evacuation last time I was in CA. Things will come together in time.
During some of my filtering through papers today deciding what to keep & what to toss, I came across a folder with some poetry I wrote my last year or so of college. Here's one of those poems. I wrote it in April of 2001...that seems like ages ago now.
Kerouac & Me
Kerouac said he would marry his novels
and have little short stories for children.
I, on the other hand, have no interest in marriage
and I regularly abort poetry, for children bore me too.
Death hovered over Jack's pencil,
youth hovers over mine.
My life ahead of me and right now
I'm spending it in some campus coffeehouse
sitting amongst the pretentious crowd
who pretend to be intellectual.
I have no interest in joining them
but I am too lazy to leave.
Kerouac said that "we are all
sealed in our own little melancholy atmosphere."
This much is true.
I only wish these people
would stay out of
mine.
I was chipper ey?! Actually, I like that one for some reason. I was reading Kerouac's "Mexico City Blues" when I wrote that one. I think I went 6 months or more reading nothing but Beat Generation authors & poets. I guess I liked the fact that Kerouac had such a way of drawing me in with his words even though we were from 2 different worlds.
My outlook on life today is a little different than it was when I wrote that poem. Today I'm still clinging to an idea that "Optimism is a Revolutionary Act!" That thought was brought up to me last week (while watching Say Anything with the commentary on). And it's so true. Trying to keep the optimism I feel when I think of moving on to my new job & new home - when I go to work the world (& the organization) try to stomp out that optimism. But I only have 7 days left of work for such a optimism killing corporation. Woo Hoo!!!
And for those of you who got my e-mail update today, I'm not creative enough to come up with a different Title line for this one. Besides, it fits. I'm wearing it.