My quarter comes to a big crashing close. I didn't quite keep up on my promise to blog every day up to the end of it, but it ended last Wednesday (regular classes did indeed end on the 15th, so I sort of kept up. ). Final observations- teachings a good racket for poets- I like it and would keep doing it if I could afford it. Bank account says, however, that I can't, what with gas and parking expenses, not to mention the annoyance of getting paid once a month (not a good thing for people who are not a' so good with money).

Saw culmination of student's creative projects- many surprises, some really extraordinary. In all, they reported that the project was a smash, even therapeutic for them, which was heart-warming. Apparently, being engaged in creative work is pleasant (don't know how I keep failing to notice that).

On my own front: the thing about basing writing in research is that you never know when to stop researching. Have stacks of books on the End of the World, stacks of books on cognitive science, stacks of books on Oakland, going to get stacks of books on autism, and all I do is keep reading them, and get kind of annoyed when I have to actually produce some writing. Here's all for today:

How do you feel about meaning?
Does it rest at its object, or pierce deeper? With Newton, would it then need a reason to stop, traveling on past the sky? Does it stop at you, or like a song go ‘right through (me)’you?
How do you feel about digging- how is the flesh of your hands?
Does etymology just weigh on you, trudging up Wittgenstein’s ladder? Do you dig the ladder’s legs in the ground, if you know you won’t need it to get back down?
From Merlin Donald: Darwin’s story is of song proceeding speech, and then being selected for- the original seduction of language!

This stuff always threatens to turn into a onger, probably multi-media piece on relations of text and music, a sample of which COR promised to publish (whenever they do a 2007 issue, I guess). Other projects are stalled, but I have many reasons to be in woodshop coming up, and have no job, so chapbox and brickpoems likely forthcoming. Get in the body, everybody!