the f i should have made: each has stood out btwn
the A(s) earned and B(s) i slept through. the f is
my greatest of greatest academic accomplishment
i failed to write the last paper, i just did. i blamed
it on a storm that passed thru and had that storm
not been about i would have blamed it on a dog
or a death or a wound: an immense upheaval
the greatest f ever not received: he liked me. not
like a man likes a woman. he liked me because
i answered in class as others slept. i read when
asked, i made copies and the class stood to sing
"Georgia on my mind" the darkness that befell
africa had no chance, still has none. a paper half
written left on a drive somewhere in my x's closet
the greatest f made A ever received - made me
know that it is not the academics one needs to
learn: even in a lowly community college, it is
the understanding he was as alone as we ever will
be up there: he, like us, needed to know he was:
the greatest f made me reach, made me speak, he made
me know something rattled - as my c: my tragedy: hubris
made me. i had gotten good. good at writing. good at
speaking, good at it all in the academic sense my master's
half done: an irish class: a finnegan's wake, a van, a one
leg boy: all great reads, all my writings
not so - no title, bad grammar, wake
up, not so good. tears, lots of tears
our talk, nothing. did i truly believe
i was any good. and i stared at him
and i feared him. and knew he was
right. and i knew something else he
was at the end just a man little more
we each have our students who we give to
and those we dash against the sea. in truth
what we have is little more that what we had
