Where's that title from?









Altarwise by Owl-Light

I.

Altarwise by owl-light in the half-way house
The gentleman lay graveward with his furies;
Abaddon in the hangnail cracked from Adam,
And, from his fork, a dog among the fairies,
The atlas-eater with a jaw for news,
Bit out the mandrake with to-morrow's scream.
Then, penny-eyed, that gentleman of wounds,
Old cock from nowheres and the heaven's egg,
With bones unbuttoned to the half-way winds,
Hatched from the windy salvage on one leg,
Scraped at my cradle in a walking word
That night of time under the Christward shelter:
I am the long world's gentleman, he said,
And share my bed with Capricorn and Cancer.



-- Dylan Thomas

14 December 2007

Thought Is the Builder

Almost all of my Ph.D. program applications have gone out. I am guardedly optimistic. I think my recommendation letters are positive, and my GRE Verbal and Subject scores are very good. Also, I overhauled an essay on contemporary poetry that I wrote back in '06, so my critical writing sample is pretty good, too.

And, the opinions of the editors of every literary magazine in the universe notwithstanding, I've got some damned fine poems in there, as well.

So, now I would like to enter some sort of cryogenic hibernation for about two to three months, until the results are in. If that is not available, I will spend my time sending out telepathic signals to the admissions committees: Love me! Love me!

I think I should get some sort of certificate just for completing these applications.


Otherwise, I have 111 grading to finish, and a paper to write about Blake and Keats. Then, over the holiday break, I am going to hole up and read lots of nice things and supercharge my weary brain for all my poetic endeavors of 2008.
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