Wellllllll,

the club fell through, but I went to a pretty funny comedy show, and yesterday turned in my Joyce paper. I have my final tutorial tomorrow, on Simon Armitage. Here's his poem "Kid":

Kid

Batman, big shot, when you gave the order
to grow up, then let me loose to wander
leeward, freely through the wild blue yonder
as you liked to say, or ditched me, rather,
in the gutter ... well, I turned the corner.
Now I've scotched that 'he was like a father
to me' rumour, sacked it, blown the cover
on that 'he was like an elder brother'
story, let the cat out on that caper
with the married woman, how you took her
downtown on expenses in the motor.
Holy robin-redbreast-nest-egg-shocker!
Holy roll-me-over-in the-clover,
I'm not playing ball boy any longer
Batman, now I've doffed that off-the-shoulder
Sherwood-Forest-green and scarlet number
for a pair of jeans and crew-neck jumper;
now I'm taller, harder, stronger, older.
Batman, it makes a marvellous picture:
you without a shadow, stewing over
chicken giblets in the pressure cooker,
next to nothing in the walk-in larder,
punching the palm of your hand all winter,
you baby, now I'm the real boy wonder.

Here's my Armitage-y poem, my last assignment at Oxford.

Note: Mom, don't be offended at this.

Family Vacation (after Simon Armitage)

At the bed and breakfast, I expected to be disappointed
And I wasn’t disappointed by my expectation.
This was clearly an old person’s hotel, full of dust.
I found a racist book called “Chocolate Charlie” in my nightstand.

Because there was nothing to do, I was forced to play
Hours of chess with my younger brother in the mote-filled lobby.
They actually served tea and scones in the afternoon.
My mom told me “you don’t need them, Daisy”
As usual, using my name like punctuation instead of a name.

There was a golf course-cum-trailer park in the town
Which was famous for the amount of pot its inhabitants smoked.
There was a racist pinball game in the golf store.
Because there was nothing to do, we were forced to explore riverbanks
By the side of the road, and seaside restaurants perched on cliffs.

We found those roadside attractions, but we didn’t go in.
We found a giant fallen tree, and walked it like unskilled tightrope walkers.
We found drunk driver being arrested outside the hotel one night.
We found the giant trestle bridge a dozen acres from the hotel’s garden.
We found one of the best pizza places we’d ever been to, and ate there twice.

The vacation only reinforced the thought in my mind
That somehow, my misery is transformed by time elapsed into beauty.
Because there was nothing to do, we were forced to be creative
And though I’m sure I couldn’t stop complaining at the time
I look back and am surprised, because who would want to go back there?




Family: what was the name of this town again? I totally forget.