experiencing the poem

I think I love school. Again. Which is a nice change from not loving school, and then hating school, and then panicking about school and running away, shrieking, from school and hiding in a dark corner rocking back and forth and whimpering in tongues. About school.

My first class was Wednesday, and despite a big unpleasantly pretentious weaselface (hello, weaselface!) it was a pleasure and a delight and I only looked at the clock five or eleven times. The rest of the class I "participated" and said "things that are smart" about "poetry." I was kind of sexy.

And now, I have a homework assignment, and I am excited. About homework! This is so much nicer than a dark corner. For my homework assignment, I have to choose a poem, and then, experience it. And then, write two pages about my experience of experiencing a poem. That rules. Mostly because my explicating skills are probably a bit rusty.