B is for Busy (and Bad Poetry)

B is for Bad Poetry Cover

Oh man, this week has been a whirlwind!

Classes have started, I’ve moved (sort of), and the Euclid Street Shop is now an official business registered with my city, county, and state. This basically means I’ve spent the last couple days running around town buying art supplies, turning in paperwork, and taking care of a million other errands. I feel like I’ve spent every waking moment trying to cross things off my to-do list.

Strangely, I’m happy. I know that’s such a cliche, that being busy makes you happier, but I always thought I was personally immune to that. I was always like, um no, I’d rather sit on the couch and watch TV all day, thanks. But now here I am. And maybe I’m beginning to understand another cliche: that being busy with what you don’t want to do is the problem, not being busy itself.

I’ll have to reflect more deeply on that another day, perhaps. For now, on to the Bad Poetry!

Pamela August Russell’s poems–which are collected in her book, B is for Bad Poetrycame at me out of nowhere. There I am, scrolling through my Tumblr feed, and BAM, her poems run out in front of me like a suicidal deer in the road.

Platitude Omelet

the perfect love poem

If I had a Gun

I can’t say I have terribly sophisticated taste in poetry–in fact it may be accurate to say that I’m susceptible to the merely clever rather than the profound–but I was totally taken with these poems. They’re at once depressing and charming, oblique and obvious, scathingly satirical and emotionally striking.

They’re also mysteriously timeless: for a moment, the vintage-looking cover and typography had me disoriented, though in a pleasant way. Who was this Pamela August Russell? Why had I never heard of her? Was she from another era or this one? I had to know.

Of course, this one gave her away:

Security Question

In a way, I like that Russell is a modern poet. I’m glad that a voice like hers exists for our age, and I kind of desperately need to read more of her work.

So you can probably guess what just got added to my to-do list: obtain a copy of B is for Bad Poetry. As soon as possible.

Images: Tumblr // zombiebondage


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